


Bad (Good?) Timing

by TacoPanda



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Childhood Trauma, David Being David (Camp Camp), Family, Family Drama, Fluff, I promise, Lots of healing, Lots of swearing like holy shit, Max being a little shit, Neglect, No Maxvid you sinners, Protective David (Camp Camp), Protective Max (Camp Camp), Swearing, They protect eachother tbh, dadvid, momGwen in the house bois, more swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 21:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 50,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18948691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TacoPanda/pseuds/TacoPanda
Summary: A Dadvid fic! Thought I'd jump on the bandwagon with season 4 rolling up. These two have such an awesome dynamic, it's been so much fun writing them. I won't spoil too much, but be ready for some healing.This will be timed after season 3, but I'll be keeping an eye on season 4 and making edits if they fit.Rated T for mentions of mental illness and abuse and Max's filthy mouth.





	1. Chapter 1

David had had a… rough day, to say the least. It's only been a month into the semester, and he already had a handful of troublemakers making his classroom their permanent lunchroom. Throwing trash, drawing on the whiteboard in permanent marker, writing profanities that David hadn't even  _ heard of  _ in their textbooks, and, of course, regular outbursts have caused him to become… pretty drained.

Honestly, it was even worse than Max and his infamous troop back at Camp, at least they were clever with their schemes. These kids, despite being several years  _ older _ than his former campers, weren't even creative. Another day, another crude drawing of genitalia to wipe off the board. Or a desk. Or erase from a book. 

David sighs, drawing his eyes across the four students sitting in each corner of the room. He'll have to call their parents, which he never looked forward to. He writes himself a note and slips it into his back pocket, reminding himself for later. Those calls rarely ended well. He'll have to call sometime next week, for sure.

Checking the clock, his smile brightens. 

"Okay kiddos, lunch detention's up. You've got three minutes to dump your trays. Jasmine, make sure you're  _ on time _ , alright? I've got a fun lab planned!"

The curly-haired girl scoffs, dumping her full lunch tray into the tiny trash bin next to David's desk. His smile falters.

"Whatever,  _ Greenwood _ . I'll be here."

"Um- okay then! Stay out of trouble, guys!" David waves meekly at the disgruntled students, and then stands up from his desk to pull out some of the lab equipment he'll be using for his demonstration today, placing them on the black lab table at the front of the room. It's simple, a lab involving burning different substances to create different colored flames, but as he gets out the materials, his mind wanders elsewhere.

He was worried, about a number of things. Camp has been on his mind for a few days, and with it came fond memories of his latest campers and, well, David swore up and down that he didn't play favorites, but Max specifically. He hoped he was getting on fine back at home, since the whole Parent's Day fiasco brought up a slew of red flags that had Gwen walking him through another lengthy crying session that evening. Come to think of it, he should send her a message to see how she's doing.

He smiles as the bell rings and the halls echo with footsteps again. He's heading up to Camp this weekend, anyway. Maybe a nice breather will do him some good and calm his worries. After all, Max's parents  _ had  _ picked him up, despite the kid vehemently betting on them  _ not  _ doing so, so they did care some, at least. He was probably fine, likely at his own school causing his own brand of creative mischief at this very moment.

As the first few kids file into the classroom, David smiles down at the materials and hands out safety goggles to the students. At least the inclusion of fire will keep everyone entertained for most of the period, although they're going to be pretty disappointed once he pulls out the connected assignment.

After a bit, the bell rings, and David beams at the full classroom. 

"Alright everybody, I know you're excited it's Friday, so I have a particularly  _ hot  _ demonstration planned for today!"

TTTTTTTT

David walks through the camp gates with a little more skip in his step than usual, excited to take a little break from the monotony of grading papers and urban living. He breathes in deeply, almost trying to absorb the essence of the pines and the lake into his very bones. 

"I really don't know how anyone  _ can't  _ enjoy this." He mutters to himself. 

The mess hall comes into view first, but David walks past it to drop his bag off in the counselor's cabin. He unlocks the door and enters, pulling his bandana (a self-proclaimed necessity while camping) over his face to avoid the cloud of dust falling from the disturbed room. 

He opens all the windows, clearing out the stagnant air.

_ Gonna let that air out for a bit. I should probably check if any of our stores went rotten in the meantime. _

David leaves the counselor's cabin, brushing dust off of himself, and fiddles with his keys, finding the one for the mess hall.

Except… he pulls on the door handle, finding it unlocked. He rolls his eyes and holds in a sigh.

_ It's those homeless folks again.  _ He thinks, clipping his keys onto his belt.  _ I always hate kicking them out. I'll have to add 'replace locks' to the maintenance list. _

David opens the door to the mess hall and steps in, pausing for a moment to hear any signs of intruders. He strains his ears against the rustling leaves outside, waiting for movement.

He takes a few more cautious steps forward, closing the door behind him with a barely audible  _ click _ . Scanning the room, he does notice some open cabinets and used dishware through the serving window, so someone has  _ definitely _ been squatting here and using the little resources left behind for themselves. David frowns, becoming depressed at the idea of someone having to live like this.

A faint noise echoes out from the pantry, and David freezes. Someone's still here, and by the sound of it, hasn't heard him yet. He hesitates, but walks forward. 

"Hello? Someone here?"

The noises stop, but David doesn't give them a chance to run for it. He makes for the pantry door, hoping they haven't barricaded themselves in again. He didn't really want to have to call the police.

"I know you fellas are in a rough spot, but this is private property," Happy to find the door unblocked, he enters the small room carefully. "I'm going to have to ask you to…"

A familiar mop of black, curly hair and a blue hoodie greet David, and his jaw drops. The intruder turns, stopping his attempt to reach the attic ladder, and pales.

"Shit."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm publishing the second chapter right away, but DON'T GET USED TO THIS, KIDDOS!  
> I'm super happy that this has been well received in the short day it was up, so I've decided to spoil you guys a bit. <3

"M-Max?" David stutters, struggling to believe his eyes.

_Max is here? Why is he here? He- he went home with his parents last month, right?_

Max hops down from the shelves, shoving his hands in his pocket. "Yeah, yeah _David_. I heard you. I'll get out, so don't call the damn police." He walks towards David, trying to squeeze past him and out of the pantry, but the counselor doesn't budge.

He crouches down to be at eye-level with the boy. "Max. What are you doing here? Where are your parents?"

Max does his best to shove David out of the way, unsuccessfully. "I could ask you the same thing, _camp man._ What, do you live here or something? God, get a _life_!"

David stands, grabbing Max by his hoodie so he can't run off. " _I'm_ here because I work here, and have to do monthly maintenance to keep things in tip top shape." And also to get some time away from the city, but he didn't have to know that.

Max scoffs. "Look at you! You think I'd believe that? You're basically in your fucking counselor uniform minus the Camp Campbell branded bullshit and those puke green cargo shorts!"

"I, for one, very much like those cargo shorts." Max was deflecting the real issue, and David doesn't expect to get it out of him anytime soon. He shakes his head, picking the small boy up by his hoodie and tucking him under his arm.

"What are you _doing?_ " Max screams. "You're not my fucking _counselor_ anymore, let go!" Max kicks and flails fruitlessly.

"Max, _language_. And I'm taking you to Sleepy Peak to talk to the police. I don't know what you're doing here, but we have to call your parents and let them know where you are. Camp Campbell is still private property, so you can't just be here during the school year, too."

Max struggles under David's grip, still trying to escape. "Language my ass! I- they don't…" He pauses, then stills, clutching the hem of David's sweatshirt. "Fine. But- can I at least walk? This is humiliating. I'm not four, David."

The older man smiles, carefully setting Max on the ground. He watches him shove his hands into his hoodie pocket again, the familiar gesture bringing back all sorts of fond memories.

"You know Max, we can always just-"

Suddenly, Max kicks him _hard_ in the shin, and David doubles over to clutch at the injured leg. He bites his lip as tears start to well up in his eyes, but snaps out of it as he sees Max running away into the forest.

"Max! _Max!_ " David starts to chase him, cringing at the pain in his leg. He runs into the thick woods, already having lost the boy. He stops and sighs.

"Oh, Max…"

TTTTTTTT

Max stops after he thinks he's far enough away from David and pants heavily, resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath after the run. He looks around for hiding spots, settling on climbing into a smaller pine tree to have a decent vantage point.

 _Of course, it had to be fucking_ **_David_ ** _. Anyone else I could deal with, but he just_ **_has_ ** _to pretend to fucking_ **_care_ ** _, or something._

He reaches what he thinks is an acceptable height and sits on a branch, leaning his back against the trunk. He rests his head on a smaller branch, listening to David repeatedly call his name in the distance.

He mocks David in his mind. _'Where are your parents, Max?' Ha. I thought we already established this David, they don't care. Nobody cares._

Max turns his head to watch the sky change colors as the evening looms on. One thing about being up at camp that he always liked was that the views were actually pretty nice. Not that he’d ever let David catch on.

_Once he gives up I'll grab my shit and head out. Hopefully lay low for a bit if nobody fucking bothers me. I can probably come back in a few weeks, once the cops figure I left. It's gonna suck in the meantime, though._

He huddles closer to himself, pulling his hood up and stuffing his arms in his sleeves. October was the last month he could bear to be in just a hoodie, with the wind picking up and the chill coming on. It would be nice to stay in the mess hall, or he could try to break into the counselor's cabin again to see if there was a wood furnace or something in there to keep warm. But then there was David…

Max rubs his eyes. "Always has to come and fuck everything up." He whispers.

_Hope I don't have to end up sleeping in a goddamn tree again. This is the worst._

"Max?"

Max jumps, almost falling out of his perch to look down at David. He grabs a branch to steady himself.

"What do you want _David_? Leave me the hell alone!"

"Max, I can't just leave you here, you're only 11, and you don't have any sort of guardian to look over you! The woods aren't the safest, and I'm sure you know that squatters come around here pretty frequently."

"Yes, you _can_ leave me here, asshole. You can just walk away. Forget I was here, go home, jerk off to camping magazines, whatever."

"You know I can't do that, kiddo."

Max starts to get _really_ frustrated with the situation. Why won't he just _leave_?

"I'll jump!" Max stands on top of his branch, pointing at his former counselor. "I'll jump, and you'll have another _dead kid_ on your conscience, camp man! Just go!"

"No, Max-!" David tenses, balling his hands into fists and taking a breath.

"If- if you jump, I'll just catch you."

Max groans loudly, plopping back down onto the branch. With David’s stupid amount of strength, he probably could catch him. Plan ruined.

"Why do you think you care _so_ much, David? Why can't you just be like everyone else and _not?_ "

"Max, people do care. I know that it doesn't feel like it sometimes, but-"

"No! No, _David_ ," he spits the name, pointing furiously at the counselor. "I don't know how you can't get it through your _thick fucking skull_ after 25 years of living on this shitty planet, but nobody _actually_ cares. Gwen didn't care, Campbell didn't care, the other campers didn't care, and most of all, my _parents_ don't care." Max starts climbing down the tree, wanting to get closer so he can yell straight into his dumbass counselor's face. "You want to know what people _do_ care about? _Them-fucking-selves_ , and even then, only probably _half_ the time."

At this point, he was standing at almost eye-level with David. "So why don't you just fucking accept that you're looking through some pretty thick rose-colored glasses and realize that the reason I'm here, alone, scrounging for food off of expired _fucking_ camp supplies, is that _nobody_ in my life gives a shit about-"

Max is interrupted by a tight hug from David, one that almost squeezes the air out of him. He tenses, his mind indecisive about the action.

"I care, Max. Even if you don't believe it."

David lifts the small boy off of the tree branch, carefully setting him down on the ground and resting his hands on Max’s shoulders. He once again gets to eye-level with the boy and sets a bright smile onto his face, apparently having come to a decision.

"I- I won't bring you to the police yet, but do you want to have some decent dinner? I brought stuff for the weekend, like hot cocoa and soup."

Max stares blankly at David, but nods nonetheless. A good meal would be nice, he thought, and he does have the keys to the cabin…

"The only thing is that I do want to know why you're here. I know it's probably… hard to talk about, but you really can't stay here for the winter, it's not safe." David glances around at the woods surrounding them, almost as if he expects some bear or something to pop out of the shadows. Idiot.

Well, wouldn't that be his luck?

Max hesitates, but nods again, rubbing his eyes only to find his hands coming back wet. Was he crying?

He pulls his hoodie sleeve over his hand and wipes away the tears, shrugging David's hands off his shoulders and slowly walking back in the direction of the camp. He can feel the counselor hovering, probably ready to grab Max at any sign that he's about to bolt, but he didn't have the energy to run anymore. Hopefully, David would at least let him stay here one more night, maybe even in the cabin, before trying to bring him to the station. That would be nice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long one! Next chapter comes out this Friday.

David opens the doors to the counselor’s cabin and allows Max to go in first, following him inside after. Opening the windows and letting the breeze through definitely helped reduce the amount of dust and musk lingering in the building, but it wasn’t perfect. Max sits down on the couch, sneezing at the plume of dust that rises, and leans back into the cushions, pointedly avoiding any eye contact even through his occasional sniffles.

David frowns at that, but quickly reapplies his trademark smile. There’s no benefit in feeling sorry for the kid, not right now, and  _ definitely  _ not if he wanted to find out what was going on here. Couldn’t risk Max running off, again.

“Alright, the utilities are down, so we can’t use the kitchen, but I can start a fire and grab my camping kit. No running water, but I have some water bottles, and worst case scenario, we can use the hand pump over by the lake and boil it. I have some milk in the cooler for hot cocoa, and a few cans of soup as well as some ingredients for a few types of pull-apart breads. Oh, and marshmallows, of course! Do you have any preference for food?”

Max scoffs. “David, I just spent the last month eating cold camp shit. I’m sure I can stomach whatever crap you decide to make. At least it’ll be warm.” He sniffles again, picking at the loose threads on his hoodie.

“Alrighty, I’ll get the Dutch oven then! We’ll have an awesome camping dinner!” David heads into his room, leaving the door open, to pull out his mishmash of camping supplies and cooler. He starts preparing the meal in the kitchen after quickly wiping down the counters, keeping a close eye on Max the entire time. He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to run off since the possibility of warm food was so tempting to him, but better to be safe than sorry.

David hums as he works, making sure that what he’s making is plain enough to satisfy most palettes. He didn’t  _ think _ Max was a picky eater, he usually ate everything at camp, but he wasn’t exactly sure. Something similar to pizza should be good, at least. David picks up the heavy Dutch oven, balancing a small bag of charcoal on the top. 

“Max, do you think you can grab the door for me? Oh, and that round tin and the lighter fluid, please. We’ll need them.”

Max stops picking at his hoodie for a second before sliding off of the couch and wandering over to grab the requested materials. David waits patiently for Max to open the door before heading over to the campfire seating over by the lake.

“Do you want to set up the fire? It’s getting pretty chilly out lately, and then we can eat outside, too. It’s better than sitting inside on a nice evening like this.”

“David, you were just here for  _ three  _ months. How are you not sick of this yet?” Max gestures at the camp, to the trees and the lake, giving David a confused glare.

David shrugs, keeping his sheepish smile. “I told you Max, I just  _ really  _ love camping. The nature, the relaxing nights, the sunsets. It’s a nice way to get away from the complexities of modern life.” 

When they arrive at the campfire, Max still, despite his previous protests, begins to collect wood and sticks around the edges of the clearing, piling them into a neat stack as David and Gwen taught him this past summer. Meanwhile, David gets to work heating the coals to use with the Dutch oven. The use of the lighter fluid makes the entire process much faster.

“Hey, David.” Max drops another stack of firewood onto the pile for later and brushes the bark and leaves off his hoodie, wandering over to where David is. “What is that thing? I’ve never seen Quartermaster cook in it or anything.”

“Oh, this?” David sets some sufficiently hot coals under and on the oven, checking his watch. “It’s a Dutch oven. You put some hot coals around it and it bakes your food like a regular oven. We can’t really use these here at camp because it wouldn’t be able to feed groups of 10 people, but with just us two, it’ll be perfect.” David hands the long lighter to Max, letting him light the campfire himself. “It’s a little bit of work, but you can get better food out of it than just cooking something in a pan over a fire.”

Max lights the kindling underneath the stack he’s made, watching it flare up. “How long will it take?” The boy huddles a little closer to the pit than David would like, but he figures Max can handle himself and holds back a warning.

“Only about a half an hour, at most. We’re not cooking anything like raw meat. Do you want to roast some marshmallows in the meantime?”

“David, cut the crap. When are you going to take me to the police?”

David pauses, turning around to glance at Max. He gives him a small smile. “Let me… go get those marshmallows. Then we can talk.”

TTTTTTTT

After David got back, Max was laying down across one of the logs, looking out towards the lake and poking the fire with a long stick. Once he hears David approach, he opens his hand, palm up, and it takes a second before the counselor realizes what he wants and plops a marshmallow into his small hand.

Max tosses it into the fire without ceremony, and holds his hand out for another, watching the previous one bubble and burn in the flames. David furrows his brow before reluctantly handing him a second, then takes a seat next to him. Max sits up and spears the marshmallow onto a stick, setting it near the fire to roast gently. 

“The police, David.”

The half-answer was there immediately. “I haven’t decided... yet.” He looks over to Max, who wears a look of confusion. He continues

"I want to hear what happened, there's clearly some... reason you're here, and I don't want to make a decision without your input."

Max sighs and stares at the fire. He sticks his marshmallow in just a little bit further, enough for the poor thing to catch, and then brings it up to his face to watch it burn. The light from the fire illuminates his face, but his expression is still unreadable. Stoic.

"It's just like Parent's Day. They don't… they don't  _ fucking  _ care David. That's basically it."

The blackened marshmallow goes back into the flames, and David watches it too, this time.

"But… they picked you up from camp, right? And brought you home-"

Max rolls his eyes. "If that's your standard for caring than you're a fucking idiot, David. Anyone who doesn't want to get arrested would pick their kids up." He shrugs. "They'd be fine even if it took a few days." He says nonchalantly.

_ Even if it… _

"Max, they didn't pick you up  _ that day _ ?" David was shocked, how could they make a kid wait that long? Without a phone, probably without cash, and, for Max, without any idea if they actually  _ would  _ pick him up? That was a severe case of child neglect.

Max shrugs again. "It was only a day and a half, about." He looks up at David, answering the question he was just about to ask. "I didn't come back to camp because I didn't want to freak everyone out. Hung out by the pickup location over in Sleepy Peak, told QM that some crappy black car was my mom's, and I watched him drive away."

"Max, you know you should've-"

"Should've fucking  _ what _ , David?” Max yells. ”I didn't want the cops called on my shitty parents for being their shitty selves. It just would have caused more issues, so I waited. And yeah, they picked me up eventually, so no big deal. I hung out in that bar for a while, and I had a bit of money for food from some of my scams."

David wanted to do nothing more than stress that  _ yes, that is indeed a very big deal _ , but held off to avoid the argument. If Max was finally willing to open up, he needs to steer clear of irritating him further, or... at least more than he usually does.

Max reaches his hand out, presumably for another marshmallow. David hands him another one, regardless of its destiny. 

“Things weren’t great… when I got home. After a while, I decided that I got tired of it, and ran off. Left a half-assed note saying that I was staying with someone else, and that was it. I wandered around for a while, but figured that camp was probably a decent place to stay for a bit. Nobody to report me or anything.” He sticks the fluffy treat just out of reach of the flames, warming it again. 

David remembered that was mentioned before. He had originally thought that Max snuck off for a day or a weekend, but almost an entire  _ month _ here all alone? It’s almost mid-October, and David knows how cold the nights can get up here. 

“I picked the lock to the mess hall for food, because that thing’s fucking ancient, but I wasn’t able to get into the cabin. I’ve been staying in that old bunker, but it sucks down there without any blankets or anything, and I’m  _ not _ drinking that chocolate shit. Had to fight off a few homeless dudes, but they were easy enough to kick out. I wanted to row out to Campbell’s old summer home, but all the boats were put away, so I just… hung out here."

All things considered, the kid was resourceful, but that didn't make the situation sit any better in David's mind. In hindsight, he really should have gone down to make sure the kids actually got picked up, especially when his suspicions regarding Max came into play. He’ll be sure to go down with the Quartermaster next season.

“Why did you run away, Max?”  _ It can’t be worse than staying here, could it? _ “I know that you didn’t want to stay with them, but this… this isn’t safe. Or… legal.”

Max shrugs again. “It isn’t that bad, it’s better than at home, actually. Nobody yells at me, I don’t disappoint anybody, nobody…” He trails off. “I mean, I have my own space here, which is nice I guess. I eat more here, even if the supplies are shit. There are actually less creepy strangers around than at home, too. Feels safer to me.”

He didn’t exactly answer David’s first question, but the implications are there. Was a run-down, empty summer camp  _ really  _ better than him living at home? David tenses, taking a deep sigh while staring into the campfire, now beginning to dwindle with the lack of attention. He stands, carelessly tossing a log onto the fire before attending to the Dutch oven. Max watches David, pulling the golden brown marshmallow out of the kicked-up embers and nibbling at it nervously. 

As David removes the lid from the oven, confident that it’s cooked completely, he hears Max mumble behind him. He drops the lid of the oven onto the ground harshly with a muted  _ thump _ , and then pulls the food out by its aluminum foil, focused on the task at hand. “Sorry bud, repeat that?”

“Are you... mad?”

David stops, the bread hovering inches away from the plate it was going to be placed on. He sets it down gently, but doesn’t look at Max. He knows the expression the boy’s making, anyways.

David sighs again. “I’m fine kiddo, but you should eat, okay? You can sleep in the cabin tonight, too. I’ll pull out all of the bedding for Gwen’s room. It shouldn’t be dusty since it’s been bagged up.”

Max picks at the half-eaten marshmallow, glancing over at David walking over with a plate full of steaming food. He avoids making eye contact, keeping his head down and fidgeting in his seat. “You’re not going to turn me in yet?” He quietly asks.

David sits back in his spot next to Max, thinking over his response. He fiddles with the aluminum foil, flattening it out to access more of the food. “No, Max. It’s getting late, and I don’t think that it’s… the best decision right now. I can tell there’s more to the story, and I’m not going to press you about it when you’re hungry and tired.” 

He pulls off a piece of bread, choosing the sweeter of the two options. “I made cheesy garlic pull-apart bread, and then basically the same thing except with cinnamon and sugar. Not super healthy, but  _ very _ tasty!” He takes a bite out of the sticky, sugary bun, and pushes the plate towards Max. 

Hesitantly, the boy chooses the cheesy bread, taking a small bite. He turns away from David.

“You put too much garlic on it, asshole.” Max complains. “But at least it’s warm.”

David watches him take another, larger bite, and smiles. “I’m glad you like it, Max! Try some of the sweet bread, it’s something my mother used to make a lot of the time. I make it a decent amount at home, but nothing beats sweet rolls in a Dutch oven.”

Max looks up to him, grabbing another piece of the cheesy bread. “I thought you were gonna be all, ‘ _ Oh Max, you have to have dinner before dessert!’ _ or something. Seems more in-character for you.”

David laughs, shaking his head. “Well, I like sweet things, so that would be torture for me. It’s alright to break the rules sometimes, you know? It won’t hurt anything.” David switches over to the cheesy bread and pulls off a piece, looking out over the lake and the rapidly changing colors of the sky.

TTTTTTTT

“ _...avid… David.  _ David!”

“Hmm?” David rubs his eyes, getting his bearings and running through his memories. Max is standing beside him with his hands in his pockets. “Yeah? Oh, we should probably go inside, huh?” He mumbles.

Max points to David’s hiking boots, and the counselor looks at them quizzically.

“Your boots are melting.” 

David’s eyes widen, yanking his feet away from the hot coals. "Ah! Not again!"

Max walks towards the counselor's cabin while David frets over his boots and takes care of things outside. He wanders into Gwen's room and looks around mindlessly, opening and closing drawers and cabinets that used to contain employment rejection letters and shitty slash fanfiction. David comes and goes a few times, bringing things inside, before knocking on the doorframe and walking into the bare bedroom.

"Sorry I fell asleep kiddo, I've had a long day. Seems like things are mostly aired out in here, though. I can set up your bed if you want to get changed."

David goes about unpacking the clean bedding while Max leaves the room to enter David's. His bedroom is equally as bare, but still has some of David's belongings here and there, so it at least feels somewhat cozier. Max hops up on the bed, looking out the window beside it at the night sky.

_ Better get ready to go back home tomorrow. _ Max kicks his feet as they dangle off the side of the bed, thinking to himself.

_ I wonder if they even filed a report or anything. The school probably did, by now. _

Max hears the windows close in the other room and slides off the bed, exciting David's room right as the counselor leaves Gwen’s.

"Alrighty, everything should be good in there- oh."

Max raises an eyebrow at the counselor, who brings a hand to his face. "I forgot you've been staying in the bunker. I can go get your things if you-"

"David, it's fine." Max pushes past David's legs to enter the bedroom. "I usually sleep in my day clothes at home anyway, get some sleep." 

"Are you sure Max? That can't be comforta **_ble-!_ ** "

David is hit in the side by a doorknob as the door shuts him out. He jumps away, rubbing his side.

Max's voice is muffled through the door. "I said it's fine, goodnight." He says, and David decides to leave him be.

"Okay, um… goodnight, Max! I can go get your things in the morning. If you need anything, you can come and wake me up! Anything at all, okay?"

The bedroom is silent, and David takes that as his cue to leave. He walks over to his bedroom, looks over at Max's room, and quietly sighs before closing the door to his.

TTTTTTTT

Max listens through the door, still sitting on the floor against it after he slammed David out. He hears David's footsteps walk away, then hesitate, before the telltale click of his bedroom door rings through the cabin. Max stuffs his head into his knees, rubbing his stinging eyes on the threadbare denim.

He sits there for a little bit, contemplating his options. He could wait for David to fall asleep, then run off. He could even take his phone, so at least he had some safety while running from city-to-city. He could probably find a charger from a lost-and-found somewhere, too, if he couldn't find David's. If he wanted to leave, that would probably be the best course of action. Down the camp but up a working phone. Maybe he can find a way to make some cash with it, too. His emergency fund was running dangerously low.

If he wanted to stay, however, it would probably mean he goes to the police tomorrow and then gets taken home. He could refuse to tell them his name, but he’s sure that David can and will provide any information they need to send him home just from memory. The man had a life, a job, a conscience. He can't be babysitting Max an hour away from his home, and being here really  _ was  _ illegal. Basically, if he stayed at camp with David, he was going home- no matter what. 

He  _ could  _ actually tell the police about the very real reasons he ran away, but that led to two possible outcomes, neither of which very appealing. They'd probably take a statement, he'd tell them everything, which would lead to investigations and people prying into his parent's lives. In the chance they can't find enough evidence to remove Max from the home, they'd just plop him back down with them, and  _ that  _ would be bad news for him. As much as he believed that things couldn't get any worse, that would likely make it so.

Or, if they did remove him from his parents, he'd get placed either temporarily or permanently into the system. He’d met people that came from or were in foster care (although they usually vanished within a few months) and from what he knew, it wasn't pretty. Some of those places could be worse than the homes that the kids were removed from, and the kids are reduced to a source of income for the shitty foster parents. He'd probably have less freedom, would move a ton, definitely wouldn't get adopted, (who would want a kid like him, anyway?) and would be more miserable than if he had just stayed with his parents. At least they didn't go on a manhunt every time Max needed some space.

And, he probably wouldn't be able to come back to camp again next summer, but it's not like  _ that _ was an actual factor in his decision or anything.

Max rubs his face with his hands, he really hated making life-altering decisions overnight, but it was becoming more and more common with each passing day. It was getting irritating. 

After an hour or so of staring out of the window and thinking to himself, Max stands up, slowly easing open the latch on the door. He tiptoes over to David's, pressing his ear up to the thin wood to listen for movement in the other room. Hearing none, he eases the latch open again, opening the door only enough for him to quietly slip in.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH! I hope everyone's ready for the Season 4 Premiere tomorrow! Just finished binging all of season 3, I'm so hyped.

David wakes up bright and early, as usual, completely refreshed. The camp beds weren't as nice as his bed at home, but being here made it all the better. He sits up, stretches, and-

Memories from yesterday flood his sleep-addled mind, and he recalls that he has a certain 11-year-old to take care of. His smile softens, concern for Max bubbling into his mind.

_ I can… make him breakfast! I doubt the kiddo is up this early, he was a late sleeper at camp. _

David rolls over to the side of the bed to check the time on his phone.

Which… isn't there.

He didn't forget it outside, did he? No, he remembers plugging it into his solar charger.

David swings his legs off the side of the bed and stands, opting to get dressed first and search for the thing later. It might be tangled up in the sheets again, or under the bed. Oh well, wouldn't be the first time he's lost a phone.

Lost a phone…

Max.

David, the realization dawning on him in the middle of dressing, quickly buckles his belt and throws on the shirt he was wearing yesterday, rushing out of the bedroom and through Max's open door-

No Max.

"Max?!"

David searches the room, taking note that the bed is still made, but disturbed, as if someone slept on top of the covers. The closet, under the bed, behind the nightstand, the window’s still locked, but there’s still no Max to be found. He considers-

_ “David, you fucking idiot, I’m in here!” _

David pauses, then rushes out into the living room, seeing Max lounging casually on the couch with a small, pink phone. His small, pink phone. 

“God, use your brain for once, stop freaking out.”

David relaxes, thanking the  _ stars _ that Max didn’t run off. “I- sorry kiddo! I was just… worried.”

“Yeah, clearly. I’m here though, so calm the hell down.” He swipes at something on David’s phone. ”Is there something for breakfast? I’m starving.”

"I- um, yes! I can go out and start a small fire in front of the mess hall. We can do eggs, toast, and sausage, or I can make a scrambler dish, that would be easier, or-”

“Hey, dude. Chill.” Max gets up and hands David the solar charger. “I’ll eat whatever, I don’t care.” Max pushes open the cabin doors, eyes glued to the phone while wandering outside. He doubles back, pointing at David. “Also, you might wanna charge that. I’m gonna be playing games on your phone while you do… whatever it is you came here to do today. I won’t like… fuck with your Tinder or anything… this time.”

David smiles. “It feels just like camp again! Alright Max, I’ll be right out. Stay close, alright? And we can go get your things after breakfast, too.”

The cabin door slams, and Max wanders out towards where the tents used to be, probably to find a place to settle. David watches him out the window before grabbing all the supplies he’ll need to start cooking.

His mind wanders while getting everything ready, and he can’t help but worry about what he’s going to do with Max. There was clearly some sort of trouble at home, something that Max didn’t want to go back to. A situation bad enough where he’d rather scrounge for meals at a run-down summer camp than stay there. 

Despite what others would likely say, David wasn’t clueless enough to notice the dozens of red flags being piled up around Max’s case. Sure, David was pretty clueless, he didn’t know when people were out to get  _ him _ , like Campbell, but people that threatened the kids? He was rather perceptive when it came to his kids. He was trained,  _ extensively _ , on signs of abuse or neglect, and as he went down the list, the boxes for Max just kept getting checked. Aggression, rebellion, withdrawal from activities, abundance of independence, profanities, and runaway attempts (from both his home  _ and  _ Camp Campbell, apparently). He always cleaned his plate during meals (if his friends didn’t interrupt him), but he still looked small for a kid his age. His hoodie was worn, threadbare, somewhat tattered, but David wasn’t sure if it was because he had a lack of clothes, or if that was a personal favorite. 

Being a counselor and a teacher would give him some leverage with the police, he’d be regarded as a credible source of information, probably because he was the only adult in the kid’s life that could  _ provide  _ any sort of information. He’d be pulled into the case and questioned, and he’d of course push for whatever would be best for Max, always taking into account the boy’s own preferences. 

But Max didn’t want to go to the police in the first place, and he isn’t just a paper with a list of boxes. No child really is, but Max was a separate exception entirely. He probably knows the possibilities, acutely enough to not want to exacerbate things further by reporting the behavior. He's a smart kid, strangely street-smart, and much more mature for his age than any student or camper that David's known. 

And even then, he thought staying at the camp was the best decision.

Or the least scary. The least risky.

David brings the uncooked food outside (while also adding 'dishes' to the list of things to do), where Max is already gathering small amounts of firewood while watching a YouTube video. He plops down next to the pit as David walks up.

“Thanks kiddo! Do you mind getting a piece or two of firewood from behind the Mess Hall while I get this going?”

Max grunts a reply, but stands, slowly wandering behind the building. Meanwhile, David pulls out a lighter and works at the kindling. The fire lights, Max returns, and they sit quietly while the meal is made, with sounds from whatever game the boy’s playing at the moment mingling with the crackling of the growing fire and the smell of a fresh meal. The air, however, is tense with the looming discussion on the horizon.

Well, might as well get it over with.

“Max…” David stirs away at the scrambler mix, the name cutting through the tension in the air. “Why don’t you want to go to the police?”

Max grimaces, tapping more violently on the phone a few more times before shoving it into his pocket. He looks out at the campgrounds, probably thinking about what he wants to answer this with, choosing his words carefully.

It takes a bit, but he responds. “I just… it’ll be a fucking hassle… and everything. I don’t wanna deal with it.”

“Language.” David says quietly. “You know you can’t stay here, buddy. It’s not safe.”

“Yeah, I  _ know. _ It’s not like you haven’t said it a thousand goddamn times already- um, both of those things.” 

David’s about to make another comment, but Max’s quiet voice stops him.

“I- I don’t want to go back, I don’t want to go into the system, I don’t want to make things worse, I don’t want to bother anyone else.”

The sounds of cooking cease, and David looks over at Max.

“What  _ do _ you want, Max?”

A few seconds go by, and David forgets about the food to look at Max burying his face in his knees. The kid rubs his eyes, shrugs, and then sighs.

“I don’t… I don’t fucking know, David. I’m just- I’m just a kid.” 

David looks back down at the skillet and sighs. He can’t expect Max to know the answer to that.

Because he doesn’t really know what to do, either.


	5. Chapter 5

David divides the meal between them onto plates, passing Max a fork to eat with.

“I’m sorry Max… I don’t know what to do either. I just… want what’s best for you.”

Max pushes the eggs around on his plate, half-heartedly taking a bite every once in a while. David does the same, but eventually forces himself to finish his meal. He lets the fire die out, and then checks the time on his watch after Max has eaten more than half of his food.

It’s nearing around 10:00 am, and David still hasn’t gotten any work done on the camp. The day  _ was  _ still young, and he had all of tomorrow as well, but he had a suspicion that he won’t be getting the majority of his checklist finished due to Max being here.

Not that he minded, of course. He can always come back to the camp. Max…

He needed help  _ now _ . 

“ _ Argh! _ David, just fucking drive me  _ home _ !” David jumps at the outburst as Max stands up and throws the paper plate along with the rest of his meal onto the hot coals. He starts to pace around the area they sit in.

“This whole thing is  _ stupid _ , I just want to stop thinking about it. At least if I go home to my parents I… things probably won’t be worse. They’ve probably been  _ fucking happy  _ to be rid of me for a few weeks!”

David stands as well, hesitating before also tossing his plate into the pit. “Now, Max…  _ language, _ and I really don’t think that’s the best idea, we can-”

“ _ What _ , we can go to the police? Report me as a runaway problem kid?! You know as well as I do that there are  _ two  _ shitty outcomes with going to the feds, I either get put in the fucking system along with every other shitty kid, or they do nothing, tell my parents what I said, and then it gets  _ worse _ , David, if it even  _ can _ get worse! Even the  _ good _ option in that bullshit is garbage!”

“Max, I- I don’t think I can take you back to your parents… it’s… wrong.” David runs his hand through his hair, struggling with the confrontation. He doesn't look at Max, instead choosing to focus on the smoldering embers in front of them.

“Yeah? Well, the alternatives are  _ worse _ , asshole, can’t you see that? I don’t  _ have _ any other option.”

“You… I-” David racks his brain for answers. “Do you not have any family members? Nobody else you can go to instead? You can even stay with me for a time until-”

“Stay with you?" Max interrupts, his voice breaking. "David, you have a job, you have shit to deal with, and also that’s  _ basically  _ kidnapping, idiot. And  _ no _ , I don’t have anyone else to stay with. You think I’d be in this shitty camp right now if I had anyone else?”

“Max, we can work something out with the police, show them that-”

"David, Jesus fucking Christ I swear if you take me to the police I will refuse to tell them anything, I will deny literally anything that I told you, and they'll just send me back home and scare the  _ shit  _ out of my parents since I'm in a  _ goddamned cop car!  _ This isn't a thing you can just… just  _ believe  _ yourself out of, or whatever crap you think you can pull. This is reality. This is life."

"But-"

“No, David- stop.” David finally looks down into Max’s eyes. He sees the fatigue, the struggle, how tired he is with this whole ordeal.

He looks both too young, and too old to be living life this way.

He finally deflates, sitting back down in his spot. “Just… take me home. Please.”

David watches him pick at the wood on the log he's sitting on, sees him completely defeated.

"I… how- how far away do you live, Max?"

TTTTTTT

"Huh, your house really isn't that far, is it?" David sets his phone on his center console where he can watch the GPS, and stretches over to unlock the passenger door.

Max hops in the seat with his backpack, idly playing with the seat controls to become comfortable. "I mean, I walked here after all. Took me a few days, but it wasn't that bad. Sometimes I was in a car, too." Max shrugs, and David looks back down at the GPS, noting the distance.

An hour drive wasn't necessarily that long to  _ drive _ , but to walk?  _ And _ he had to figure out how to get here on top of all that. There were signs, sure, but only on major roadways. 

And, wait, back up- did he…

"Did you  _ hitchhike  _ here?" David slams on the breaks as he backs out of the Camp Campbell driveway, earning a glare from the younger boy. 

Max rolls his eyes. "No David, you fucking idiot, there are enough bus lines to get a decent chunk of the way. I had some cash, too." He quickly buckles his seatbelt, probably wary of David's driving skill now. "If anyone asked why a kid was all alone then I just said I was going to my dad's or something. Also said I was 13. People don't give enough of a shit to question it."

David sighs, pulling out the rest of the way and beginning to drive down the long, curvy road leading back to civilization. "I… I know you're a smart kid Max, but it really is dangerous out there, especially in the city. Like I told you before, you're almost 20 times more likely to-"

"David, I've lived in cities my entire life. I don't care what your 'overprotective mother' magazine says, as long as you're street smart and don't take candy from people in white vans or wander into needle-filled alleyways, you'll be fine."

David imagines Max wandering around a big city with his hands in his pockets, shooting glares at anyone who's gaze lingers too long on the solitary child. It's almost enough to bring David to tears, but a quick glance to the passenger's seat tells him that crying would probably be a terrible idea right now, so he swallows down his emotions on the matter.

Max looks out towards the mountain, pressing his hand against the window.

"Why aren't we taking the piece of shit camp car?"

"Max,  _ language _ . And I prefer to drive my own when I'm not doing camp things since it's more fuel-efficient. The camp-mobile has more space, though."

Max hums, and they sit silently for a few miles, David fighting against his conscience every second of the drive. He wasn't sure if this was the right decision, the wrong decision, or even a  _ good  _ decision, but he was pretty confident that it was one of the latter two. He  _ did _ know that he couldn't report Max's situation and expect anything to come of it without his cooperation, so he was essentially stuck between a rock and a hard place. He didn't have a choice.

It didn't make him feel any better.

"What do you plan on telling your parents when you get back? I can walk you to your door."

Max shrugs again, messing with the controls for the radio. "I dunno, probably a version of the truth. Makes the best lie. Say I was with a friend, and then at camp, you showed up, took me home because I  _ wanted  _ to go home." He looks towards David, drawing his brows together. "And  _ don't  _ act weird, it'll just end up fucking me over. If they talk to you, which they probably will, just… say you need to be somewhere. They'll probably invite you in for cookies or some shit, say no. Invite you for dinner, say no. I don't trust you to not fuck this up for me, okay?"

David's hands tighten around the steering wheel, and he clenches his jaw. "Um… sure. I can do that… Max."

They keep driving, and David sees an exit with a number of drive-thrus and restaurants. It's still early, and they did just eat, but Max didn't finish his meal. He'll probably get denied, but he asks anyway.

"Did you want to stop somewhere for lunch? I know we just ate, but it's almost 12 now, and I'd feel better if I gave you back to your parents with a full stomach."

Max grimaces. "David, you're not returning a fucking car, you don't need to feed me before you take me back." He shifts a bit in his seat, and then continues. "Let's not and say we did, I don't really have an appetite. If you're hungry then you can eat after you drop me off or some shit."

David checks the GPS, only another 15 minutes.

He really isn’t looking forward to this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the chapter everyone's all been waiting for! Sorry it's being published a little late today, I wanted to do some additional proofreading to make sure this one really packed a punch.

"Here, the end of the street, on the corner."

"Is this... where you live, Max?"

David looks around at the _very_ large houses with carefully sculpted hedges and white picket fences. It was a great location, and, after taking a glance at the GPS, he was pretty sure this school district was one of the top three in the state. With three-story houses valued well over 6-figures, low crime rates, and a large city only a few miles away, this would probably be the ideal place to raise a child- if you could afford it.

It was most certainly _not_ what David expected.

"What, my family isn't poor or anything, _David,_ nice _racial_ assumptions.” Max fidgets in his seat, and David can tell he’s wringing his hands in his pocket. “We're fine, financially. My parents are just assholes. Pull into the driveway.”

David pulls behind a small white Audi, the car in front of him significantly newer and nicer than his forest green Honda. He parks the car and looks over at Max.

For the first time, the younger boy looks to be having second thoughts. He stares ahead at the familiar car and garage blankly.

“Max?” David reaches over to touch him on the shoulder, but Max slaps his hand away, snapping out of his thoughts, and starts to unbuckle his seatbelt. He struggles with the latch, but eventually frees himself with a huff.

“Just shut up and let’s… let’s go. I don’t swear around my parents, by the way. Don’t tell them I do.” He avoids looking at David as he grabs his backpack and leaves the car.

David follows, exiting the vehicle and warily gazing up the curving path to the front door. He glances over to Max, catching the boy lagging behind, but notices something else as well.

The counselor doubles back and rounds the car, earning a confused expression from the small boy. Max’s face falls as David closes the passenger’s side door that was absentmindedly left open.

Max blinks, glancing between David and the car. He shrinks a little under the counselor’s gaze. “Um, sorry. Forgot, I guess.”

David smiles down at him, taking a moment to ruffle the boy’s hair as he passes Max. “No problem, kiddo. No harm done.” He says softly.

Max touches his head gently, keeping a slow pace as they walk down the small path. David steps up onto the porch (still making sure Max is following) and hesitates, finger hovering above the doorbell for a few seconds.

He feels a small tug on his pants, and looks down at Max with a shaky smile.

Max stares at the doorbell rather than at David. “What’s your last name?” He whispers.

David blinks, the question catching him off-guard. He tilts his head slightly to the side.

“...Greenwood.” He responds.

Max nods, clenches David’s jeans a little tighter, and then releases, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pocket. David gives him another second, and then rings the bell.

_No going back._

David keeps his eyes down and on Max, carefully observing his actions. There’s movement in the house, footsteps, and the boy tenses. David puts a hand on his shoulder that isn’t immediately brushed away, hopefully offering some reassurance.

The door unlocks, and a tall woman with long black hair and the slightest hint of an accent answers the door. “Hello, what can I- Maxwell!”

She looks down at Max, a look of surprise on her face. After a moment, she smiles up at David. “Has Maxwell been an issue? I know he’s been with a friend for a while, thank you for driving him home!”

David offers his brightest smile, still holding Max’s shoulder, who doesn’t budge. “No worries! He was-”

“Um,” Max interrupts, still looking down at the concrete. “I was up at Camp Campbell for a little bit with counselor Greenwood, it was nice to go camping again.” He finally looks up at his mother. He shrugs, but doesn’t smile. “He made me breakfast over a fire, too.”

She touches her hand to her chest delicately. “Oh, thank you Mr. Greenwood, that must’ve been a hassle, I apologize if he caused any trouble all the way up there.” She reaches out for Max, who pointedly avoids her hand and nudges himself inside. She draws her lithe wrist back to herself. “Maxwell, don’t forget to thank your counselor.” She scolds.

“Thanks, Mr. Greenwood.” Max mumbles. His mom’s face flashes a quick grimace, likely at the careless tone, but it quickly resets into a polite smile.

David continues the conversation, drawing her attention back to him. “Oh, it was no trouble at all. I’m always excited to get the kiddos excited for camping!” He pauses, contemplating his next sentence. “...Max asked me to drive him home, it- it seems he didn’t really have a ride back?”

Behind Max’s mom, Max shoots David a warning glare, unceremoniously dropping his backpack by the coat hook.

Maintaining her calm demeanor, the woman pauses. She laughs, and then waves a hand in dismissal at David.

“Oh, that’s silly. Maxwell has a friend in the area, he could always have gotten a ride home with his parents!” She looks back, towards Max, who lowers his gaze and kicks his shoes off. “He must’ve had a fight with his little friend, that would explain why you found him at the campgrounds.” She looks back at David, a feigned look of surprise on her face. “Oh, my apologies, leaving you on the porch like this, would you like to come inside for some tea? Coffee? My husband just had a colleague over, so we have plenty of leftovers!”

David pauses for a moment, remembering Max’s warning. He glances at the boy, who has his ‘ _I swear to god I will kill you_ ’ look chiseled into his face.

“Tea would be lovely!” David responds, accepting the invitation and ignoring the younger boy fuming only a few feet away. Max’s mother steps aside, allowing David in.

He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I must’ve looked at Max’s paperwork probably dozens of times, but I can’t seem to remember your names!”

The woman offers a handshake, and David takes her hand, her manicured nails brushing the back of his. “I’m Rhea, and my husband is Victor.”

“David, thank you.” He releases, taking a moment to look around the abode. “I had a blast with Max this summer, it was quite surprising seeing him at the campgrounds when I showed up!”

Rhea turns, her hair and dress flowing behind her dramatically. She begins to lead David into another room. “Oh, that was no problem for us. Maxwell is _very_ independent, and we allow him to make his own choices quite often, although he _should_ have been with his little friend. Niel, was it?- Ah, Maxwell!”

Max, currently shuffling his way up the stairs, flinches at the name, then turns mechanically. “Yes, mother?” He strains.

“Why don’t you stay down here with all of us? David was nice enough to drive you home, you can take a few minutes to socialize. Your father should be just finishing lunch, anyways.”

Max runs his fingers along the banister for a brief second, but nods, his head bowing as he slowly descends the stairs one by one. David looks on with a sad smile, the kiddo clearly didn’t want to be here, in the house _or_ eating with his family, but he’s never seen Max this compliant before. Based on his behavior at camp, David would expect him to say some expletive and dismiss whatever instruction was given to him, not simply follow along quietly.

This Max was sad, the spark from his electric green eyes diminished. While David didn’t _necessarily_ think all of the swearing and rebellion was the best thing a kid could be doing, he knew now that the freedom to even do so was likely something he craved. Here, it looked like Max was constantly tense, treading on glass in his own home.

He seemed _afraid_.

And it made David sick to his stomach.

Rhea escorts David into the dining room, where he can now hear a man speaking under his breath on the phone in the neighboring kitchen. He turns, waving at David for a second, before walking out of sight. A few seconds later, his head pops out again, pointing to the kitchen counter.

“Rhea, I have lunch made if you want to serve it to our guest. James had to leave early, so there’s plenty. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Rhea smiles, waving him off. “Oh don’t worry darling, I’ve got it, take your time- oh!” She quickly continues before Victor can walk away, “This is David, by the way! Maxwell’s counselor from summer camp!”

David gives a small wave and takes a seat at the dining room table. The man takes a short glance at David, smiles, and then leaves. Max steps in the dining room shortly after, taking the seat directly beside the counselor.

“Maxwell, keep your counselor company for a bit, I’ll go get some drinks. Any preference on how you like your coffee?”

David pauses. He doesn’t _really_ like coffee, but he wanted to make a good impression as well as observe this home situation. “Plenty of milk and sugar, please.” He responds.

Rhea smiles, going to the kitchen to leave David and Max alone. David turns over to Max, but finds himself quickly jerked forward as Max grabs his bandana.

“I told you to fucking _leave_ !” Max whispers, eyes formed into thin slits. “I don’t want you spilling anything else, David, you could _seriously_ fuck shit up with you being a- a fucking _moron_ as usual!”

David grasps the boy’s hand, trying to loosen the pull on his neck. Were Max’s hands sweating? “Max, I just… need to see some things. It’s my duty as a Camp Campbell counsel-”

Max jerks him forward again, almost headbutting the man, but stopping his speech nonetheless. “ _No,_ you’re not my _fucking_ counselor anymore, David, this isn’t your _fucking_ business, okay? Just leave, forget anything I told you, forget anything you _think_ you see, and go _home_. I-”

“Maxwell.”

Max freezes, instantly releasing David’s bandana. His eyes blow wide, and he stares into David’s for a split second before sitting properly in his seat and facing forward. David looks up, seeing Max’s father slip his smartphone into his back pocket, entering the room from the side Max wasn’t facing. The man grins, extending a hand out to David.

David stands, finding, to his surprise, that he’s a few inches taller than the older man. However, Victor was still somewhat built, and had the same jet black hair and cold eyes that Max usually wears, although the hair was flattened and pushed back out of the man’s forehead rather than wild and fluffy like Max’s. The resemblance was still… weirdly uncanny, it felt like an adult trying to impersonate one of his campers. David does his best to smile, feeling even more intimidated by the calloused hands and firm handshake before introducing himself.

“Ah, David, thank you for driving Max home.” Victor sits on the other side of the table, facing Max directly. “That camp is quite a trek, isn’t it? I recall driving for around 45 minutes or so to get to the pickup point. Was he any trouble?”

David struggles to continue his smile, placing his hands in his lap. “Not at all, Max is always great at Camp Campbell, he seems to love it there. I think he enjoys the outdoors and the scenery, I oftentimes find him looking out over the lake or to a sunset after camp activities.”

The man glances at Max, and then back at David. “What kind of stuff do you do at that type of summer camp? I used to be in a boy scout offshoot. Did target practice, scuba diving, carpentry, obstacle training, typical outdoorsy stuff.”

David’s eyes light up, excited to be able to talk about Camp Campbell. “Well, Camp Campbell prides itself on being a multi-themed summer camp catered to every camper, usually with an emphasis on outdoor activities as well. Science, theatre, role-playing, we basically have anything that the parents sign their little campers up for!” David pauses, looking down at Max. “Since um… Max wasn’t signed up for a _specific_ camp, he got a little taste of everything, right… Max?”

David takes a closer look at the boy beside him, who seems to be staring into his lap and wringing his hands nervously. He fidgets in his seat, avoiding meeting eyes with his father.

“Um, right D- Mr. Greenwood. It was… fun.”

David glances up to Victor, who has a sour look on his face. The man raps his knuckles loudly on the table, causing Max to jump. “Maxwell. Eyes up.” He commands.

Max’s head snaps up, looking more and more distressed by the moment. The boy does his best to keep a neutral expression, but David can see the strain in his face and the shivers running through his small body.

There was something _seriously_ wrong with this image.

“There you go, champ.” Victor smiles cooly at Max, and then at David, who gets a chill up his spine at the expression. “Sorry, he gets like this sometimes, I’m sure you’ve seen him this way during the summer.”

_No, I haven’t._

David smiles back, keeping his eyes on the man across from the table and slowly shifting towards Max, but not touching him yet. “No worries, I’m a teacher and a counselor for a reason, I have a number of students that I’ve had to walk through this with.”

_But never Max._

Victor, looking uncomfortable, stands. He nods to David. “I’ll let you take care of… _this_ , then. I’m going to have a moment with Rhea, I don’t think she knows I’m off the phone yet!” He laughs, and David forces another smile before he leaves.

Once they’re alone, David bends down and lightly touches Max on the shoulder.

“Max, Max… is there something wrong?”

Max jerks back from the touch, as David expected him to, but otherwise doesn’t respond, intently focusing on the doorway his father left through. David looks behind him and, upon realizing what Max was fixating on, shifts his body in front of it.

Max’s eyes gradually focus on David’s and he shakes his head, taking a wobbly breath. “Mr. G-” he swallows, “ _David_ ,” he corrects, “you _have_ to leave. If- if you leave then I can go up in my room and they won’t have to deal with me.”

David maintains a low, soothing voice, attempting to calm Max down. “I know you’re having a rough time right now Max, but I just need you to try to stay calm, okay? Focus on me. Focus on my voice, slow your breathing.” Max looks at David, and then down at his own hands, clenching his fists and taking long, deep breaths. David chews his lip, taking a small risk by placing his hand on Max’s small head. When he doesn’t flinch away, he gently runs his hand back and forth through the boy’s hair, timing it with his own breathing and soothing reassurances.

Something within David bends, and then snaps, and his face sets into a determined stare, glancing back over his shoulder at the quiet discussion happening in the kitchen. His mouth presses into a thin line, and he refocuses on Max, who’s managed to mostly calm himself down.

“It’s… alright, Max. Everything will be okay.” David whispers. Max looks up, confusion written across his face. The former counselor smiles. “I’m not going to leave.” He finishes, and Max’s parents enter the room shortly after.

David faces forward, accepting the coffee and pastries with a quick thanks. Max’s father places a plastic cup in front of his son, along with what looks to be half of a club sandwich. His parents sit across from them with only their drinks, both glancing warily at Max before redirecting their attention to David.

“So,” Victor leans back in his dining chair, sipping his black coffee. “You mentioned you’re a teacher? What school district do you teach in? I’ve heard the ones in this area pay rather well.”

David removes his hand from Max’s head, who mechanically picks up his sandwich and begins eating.

“I teach one county over, a little more out in the country. And yes, I do know this school district in particular is very nice. Max is lucky to go here, I’m sure he’s receiving a quality education.”

Rhea speaks up now. “Oh no, Maxwell has been homeschooled for this past year, right after he came back from camp, actually.” She begins to fiddle with her pastry, scraping off a bit of the frosting and discreetly wiping it on a napkin. “He had some issues with some of the teachers and students there, we would get phone calls constantly, he would get detentions quite often, and there were many times where Victor would have to leave work to bring him home.” She pauses, stirring her tea and glancing back at Max. “Now he has a… personal tutor, and they study where we can keep a very close eye on him.”

David files that information away, pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together. “Ah, so homeschooled for grade… six, I believe? That’s about what I teach. Physical, environmental, and life sciences, specifically.”

Victor shakes his head, eyeing down Max, who shrinks even more in his seat, if that was even possible. David suppresses a scowl as the man speaks. “Just be glad you’ve never had this one as a student. Too out of control for any of them to handle.“ He sighs, taking another swig of his coffee. “We don’t even know what to do with him, half the time.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” David shrugs, smiling down at Max. “I think I got through to him well this summer, he just needed some... personal guidance, is all.” Max looks up, slight confusion on his taught expression. “A little bit of extra attention and observation on my part, but I think, in the end, Max really ended up enjoying his summer there.”

Max redirects his attention back at his sandwich, kind of… looking at it, but with a distant stare. He remains silent.

A loud noise, Victor slapping his hand on the table, causes Max, David, and Rhea to all jump. Max’s spine goes ramrod straight, and his eyes snap to his father. “That true, Maxwell?” He asks.

What the _hell_ was that about?

Max seems to struggle with the conversation and rubs his face, squeezing his eyes shut and actively trying to stay calm. He nods but still doesn’t respond, which apparently doesn’t please Victor enough, based on his deep-set scowl.

“Maxwell!” His mother chides in a tight whisper. “I’m sorry David, he doesn’t typically get like this. Usually, he remains far more _composed,_ ” she stresses the word, eyes pointedly flashing towards Max “especially around our guests.”

David glances between the family, feeling the tensions in the room run high. His mind skims through options, trying to decide on the best course of action that would calm Max, diffuse the situation, and ensure a safe outcome.

And then it clicks. This is the opportunity he was looking for.

David places a stable hand on the back of Max’s head, smiling across the table at his parents. “Why don’t you have Max stay with me for a while?” He suggests.

_Sugar cookies, that was too out of the blue._

His parents blink, clearly taken off-guard by the question. They glance between each other, and then, after a pause, look at Max and David with guarded expressions.

 _Please please_ **_please_ ** _let this work._

Victor’s deep voice wavers. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we follow…”

Max’s breathing, which David is paying close attention to, slows beside him. He can feel that Max is still tense, but is beginning to focus back on the conversation at hand. David takes a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Well,” he begins, “I wouldn’t mind taking Max for a while and keeping an eye on him. I know how to deal with kiddos his age, it’s basically all I do, and I can help him learn ways to process his anxiety in a healthy way.”

He was pretty sure that it wasn’t anxiety, at least nothing that simple, but Max’s parents would likely not notice the fib.

“Being a part of the teaching staff, I can streamline his enrollment and get him into his grade in my district, at least temporarily.”

He had no idea if he could _actually_ do that, but he would darn well try.

“I’ll send over progress reports, and you can dismiss your personal tutor, whom I would essentially take the place of.”

He doubts they actually _have_ a personal tutor, and his ‘progress reports’ would likely go straight in the trash, not that it mattered.

“If your concerns are about me. I can give you the records and teacher evaluations I’ve gotten over the years, and give you a few references you can speak to.”

Whatever they need, whatever they want, although he doesn’t think they’ll ask for much.

“As long as it’s alright with Max, I can even take him today! I could use the extra help around the camp, as I’ve gotten a little behind schedule.”

He looks down at Max, who’s begun to look almost contemplative, a myriad of thoughts, possible problems, and outcomes no doubt rushing through his brain tirelessly. “Max? Is that alright with-”

“Yes.”

The room stills, Max taking a moment to come back to reality. He glances around nervously “I mean-” He stutters. “I… do want to go back to… public school. And I think D-... um, counselor Greenwood was really helpful at camp.” He pauses for a moment, actually _looking_ at his parents for what seems to be the first time. “He helped me deal with my problems, I think. Was a really good teacher and everything. The first teacher I actually liked. I know I don’t really... _deserve_ to go back to school, but I could also be… homeschooled? By Mr. Greenwood?” He looks up at David, the soft and unsure expression foreign on Max’s face. “I think you could figure something out, right?” he asks.

The couple exchange a look once again, Max’s mother growing a concerned expression. “I-I’m sorry David, but what exactly are you looking to get out of this? We haven’t offered payment, although we’re sure we can provide some, and you’ve only known Maxwell for a very short period of time. I’m sure you can understand our… apprehension.”

David smiles honestly, thankful he doesn’t have to lie about this one. “I’m not in it for anything besides Max’s well-being. I’m not the type to claim favorites, as that’s simply unprofessional, but in the short time that Max has been at Camp Campbell, I’ve seen some _outstanding_ potential in him. I’ve seen him grow, solve complex problems, help other campers, and make friends all in a span of minutes. If I can help him in whatever way I can, I’ll consider that an absolute win.”

Max’s father leans forward on the table, resting his chin on his hands, mulling over the decision. He rubs his face and looks towards his wife, who wears an equally thoughtful expression.

After a moment, Victor speaks through his hands. “Maxwell, head upstairs and get some fresh clothes, and whatever else you’ll need to stay at Mr. Greenwood’s for some time.”

David releases a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woof, that one was a doozy. If you guys have any questions or comments, feel free to drop them below! I always love hearing from you guys <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A relatively short one, but hey, I have a thing!  
> An awesome friend of mine made some art (inspired by the fic) and she's allowing me to use it as my cover for the Fanfiction.net version!
> 
> Check it out here >>> https://twitter.com/JadeKunda/status/1138364028772855808  
> She does fanart commissions, too! 
> 
> Also, I usually update on Wednesdays and Fridays, but sometimes I push releases ahead a day.  
> ALSO also, HOORAY! We've passed 100 kudos and 1000 hits! The reaction to this has been amazing, thanks so much for the support, guys. I love you all. <3

Max walks up the stairs in a bit of a daze, not really registering what just happened. His heart was still pounding in his chest, and the tips of his fingers felt fuzzy, but the reality of the situation was slowly setting in, calming him with every foot of distance he got between him and his parents.

Once he gets to the top of the stairs, he allows himself to think. David was taking him in? And his parents were  _ letting  _ him? He knew that they didn’t exactly love him being around or anything, but he thought they’d think about it a little longer, at least. Put up a little more of a fight. Max grimaces, the realization that they cared even  _ less _ than he thought somehow disappointing. They'll find some clever way to explain it to the neighbors, and that's all that mattered. Not him.

_ Never me. _

Max enters his room, quietly closing the door behind him and then sliding down it to sit on the floor. If he listens closely enough, muffled speech can be heard echoing up the stairwell, David’s cheerful voice dominating the discussion. He runs over the previous conversation again in his head, and while he was, of course, happy to be leaving, he also had to wonder…

_ Why? _

David didn’t  _ see  _ anything. Nothing happened, his parents didn’t call him any names, they didn’t hit him. There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary, from what Max could tell, other than the unwarranted freak-out on his part. A reaction to  _ nothing _ . A reaction he could be  _ faking _ , as far as David knew. Yet still, the man knew exactly what to say, exactly what to do, to get Max into a… better situation. 

He was there for him. 

It was strange.

Max wasn't sure how to feel about it. 

Max stands up, knowing better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, slowly preparing a small collection of clothes and items he’d have to bring over. How long would he be staying? A few days? A week? A month? No, probably not a month, David would get sick of him by then. A few outfits, enough to fit in his extra backpack, the blue one. He still had his original grey backpack downstairs that had most of his stuff in it, now he just needed a few supplemental things. 

Was he exactly  _ excited  _ to be staying with David, specifically? Fuck no. The man was exhausting to deal with at the best of times, and if that enthusiasm and happiness and cheer continues into the school year  _ and _ his home life, it’d drive Max pretty fucking mad. The two of them were polar opposites, on top of that. While David might  _ pretend  _ to get along with him fine, he knew for a fact that, eventually, Max would wear him down to the point of breaking, just like he'd almost done at camp.

On multiple occasions. 

But this… living with David, was better than the alternatives. He at least knew the counselor, and he can probably swing it so that the guy leaves him alone most of the time. He was apparently a teacher, so he had to go to work, hopefully leaving Max to his own devices for most of the day. He can't imagine what living with him would actually be like, though. If he was anything like he was at camp, then likely pretty fucking infuriating.

Max zips up his backpack, grabs his pillow and blanket, throws the untouched note he left his parents in the trash, and then sits on the floor, clutching his pillow, awaiting his fate.

After a time, he hears soft footsteps coming up the stairs, either his mom or David, by the sound of it. " _...on the… sure! …good care of him, don't you worry! _ " Yep, David.

His bedroom door creaks open, the counselor’s head poking through. He looks down at Max, slowly, gently opening the door and beaming one of his brightest smiles.

_ It looks fake. _

"C'mon kiddo! You all packed up?"

Max looks up at David, down at his backpack, and around his room. He shrugs, burying his face in his pillow, and stands without saying a word. 

David's smile softens, and he takes a cautious step forward, slowly kneeling down to be at eye level with Max. He extends a hand, but draws it back after a moment's hesitation. Interesting.

He says in a low voice, "Hey, I told you I wasn't leaving, okay? This is the best option I could think of."

Max glances up at him, still unsure of his motives, and nods.

"Let's just get out of here, camp man. They gave me fucking orange juice, and now I feel sick."

Max walks around David, disappearing from his field of vision to enter the hallway. The counselor stands, picking up the boy’s forgotten backpack, and moves to leave. He watches Max descend the stairs down the hallway, but before David shuts the door behind him, he stops. Taking a moment, he turns around to study Max's bedroom.

It’s small, had a sloped ceiling, and didn’t contain much. A plain twin bed with a metal frame, a small dresser, a closet, an end table with a digital alarm clock, a small flat screen television, and a small trash bin. In terms of personal belongings, there were few, but he figured Max had probably grabbed whatever stuff he cared for that would have been lying out. Honestly, it looked like something from a magazine, what with the lack of personality. There were a few paintings on the walls that went with the rest of the decor in the room, and the entire mood was very mature and clean, much like the rest of the house. It didn’t really  _ seem _ like a kid’s room, actually- more like a small guest room.

David shuts the door, preparing to go back downstairs, when he hears a knock on the bedroom door, as if something’s hanging on it. He draws his brows together, curious of what it is. He knows it’s rude to snoop, but if the kiddo was going to be living with him, he should know his interests, right?

_ That’s a bad justification for snooping and you know it, Davey. _

Nevertheless, David peeks around the door to see what’s attached to it, and his jaw drops. 

_ It’s… the staff. _

David steps back into the room, gingerly lifting the broken Order of the Sparrow staff off of its place on the door. The top, the broken end, sports a clean hole drilled through it, a piece of leather tied in a loop to keep it hung on it’s place on the door. 

David’s eyes prick with tears, and he unzips the backpack to slip it inside, quickly shutting the door behind him and trotting down the stairs where Max is waiting with a suspicious glare. The boy picks up his backpack and walks straight for the door, not even acknowledging his parents watching him nearby. He slips on his shoes, paying close attention to the quiet conversation behind him.

“If he causes any trouble, feel free to call us.”

“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be necessary, but thank you! I’ll call you on Sunday evening to work out some more details, is that alright with you?”

A grunt from his father. “If it’s anytime after 8, I’ll be unavailable, but Rhea should be able to handle things.” Max can feel Victor’s eyes on the back of his head as he pretends to struggle with his shoes. He'd rather not look back at that bastard. “We’ll be in touch, but we do have rather busy schedules.”

“And I’ll definitely keep that in mind! Max, are you ready to go?”

Max stands up, debating just storming out of the house that second with a 'fuck you!'. But, deciding that he doesn’t really have the energy to do so, he simply turns and nods, shrugging on his backpack and picking up his pillow and blanket to keep his hands full, a silent excuse for no physical contact.

David's eyes flicker between the family, Max wants to smirk at the fact that even  _ he  _ can read the tensity of the room. “Um, alright! Thank you Rhea, Victor, we’ll keep in touch. Here Max, I’ll get the door for you.” 

The front door opens, and Max steps outside, careful not to trip down the porch with the bundle of bedding in his arms. He walks to David’s car, the literal vehicle of his escape in his sights, tuning out the conversation behind him.

“Hey,  _ Maxwell! _ ” A low voice barks, and he stops in his tracks. Spinning around, he sees his father standing on the porch next to David. He stares the man down, fear and apprehension sneaking back into his mind. Shit, he must've been calling him, based on the look he wore.

Their gazes meet, and Victor’s eyes narrow. “ _ Behave _ .” He says, the hidden implications ringing clear in Max’s mind. His heartbeat rises, but he nods, firmly, before David gently taps him on the shoulder and nudges him to the car.

“C’mon, Max.” He says under his breath. “Let’s go back to camp.”

The voice is so, so small, so quiet.

Max decides he hates it.

David escorts Max to the passenger’s side door, only pausing to toss Max’s extra backpack in the back seat of the sedan. He opens the door, Max hopping in while still holding all of his bedding. The counselor closes him in gently, and Max situates himself in the front seat, throwing his original, grey backpack in the back before curling up in the front with his blankets and pillows. 

David rounds the car, stepping into the driver’s seat and pulling out of the driveway. Max can’t help himself from glancing out the window as they leave, only to find that his parents have already gone inside. He grimaces, but shuffles further into the seat, letting his blanket and pillow swallow him almost completely.

They get to the end of the street and David stops at the corner, setting up his GPS after they’re a decent distance away from Max’s home. Before they continue, however, David reaches over to Max’s side, pulling the seatbelt over the boy and all of his bedding, situating it to be as comfortable as possible. Max begrudgingly allows David to fuss over him, not really having the energy to complain anymore. Honestly, he just wanted to go to sleep.

He didn't want to think of how much this is going to change his life.

The two drive for a while, Max dozing off as the miles to camp decrease. At one point, he startles awake, and he can tell David’s staring at him from the way the car swerves. Max scowls, rubbing out the sleep in his eyes. 

“Mind your own business,  _ David. _ Pay attention to the road before you kill us!”

The car shifts back in place on the road, and David sighs as he turns his eyes back to the nearly empty highway. “Max, I just want to-”

“ _ No!  _ No,” He coughs, clearing his throat from the sleep. “we’re  _ not _ going through this.”

“At some point you have to-”

“ _ No _ , I fucking  _ don’t _ , David. I’m fine. You- I don’t care. I really, really don’t. Talking about it won’t even change anything, it’ll just make me… fucking pissed off, okay?”

Max can see the hesitation in David’s face, eyes locked on the road as he grips the steering wheel. The boy clenches his teeth, biting back a snide comment towards the counselor. 

David continues in that stupid, gentle voice. “I know you don’t have to, but I just want you to know that I’m here… if you need to talk. I just want what’s best for you, Max, and I can do better if I know the situation.” Another pause. “It doesn’t have to be everything- not now, or ever, but please trust me when I say that it- that  _ I _ can help.”

Max stays silent, mostly because he doesn’t really  _ have  _ anything to say to that. He just wanted to change the subject, didn’t want to be reminded of what happened. Didn’t want to be reminded of his father, or his mother. 

Max catches a glimpse of an exit sign flying by, a handful of colorful fast food logos displayed on it. He hadn’t really noticed, but he  _ was _ getting hungry, now that his nausea has finally passed. 

As if David could fucking read minds, he smiles, and says “Hey, why don’t we stop and get some food? We haven’t had anything decent to eat or drink since breakfast, you didn’t seem to like what your parents gave you, either.”

“Didn’t you accept those crappy scones or whatever my mom brought you?” Nice, Max. Completely counterintuitive to what you want.

“I… didn’t have an appetite.” David laughs, hesitating. “I didn’t even drink the coffee. Even with milk and sugar, I can’t stand the... bitterness.”

Max rolls his eyes at the thinly veiled metaphor, nodding towards the exit. “Let’s stop here, I told you that you could eat after we saw my shitty parents, anyways. It’s only fair.”

“Max, language. And... of course.” He smiles. “What would you like to eat?”

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one. The next chapter is the one to be excited for, though. :)

“God, I  _ hate _ eating in cars.”

“Oh c’mon Max, it wasn’t that bad. It felt like a road trip!”

“David, I know I’m only 11, but I don’t think driving back and forth for two hours and eating McDonald’s for lunch is  _ anything _ like an actual road trip.” Max slams the car door, shrugging his backpack on and carrying his pillow under his arm. “First of all, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to go on trips with people you actually  _ like _ , not your annoying camp counselor.”

David pulls Max’s blanket and his extra backpack out of the back seat, following the boy to the counselor’s cabin. “Well I for one, thought it was quite nice. I’m glad you got some rest in too, because I  _ would  _ very much appreciate some help around the camp.”

Max groans, knocking his head against the screen door dramatically. “Do I  _ have _ to?” He asks in a childish manner.

“Hmm.” David unlocks the cabin, opening the door for Max. “I don’t suppose you  _ have  _ to, but if you help, we can get pizza for lunch tomorrow. Plus, if we finish early we can either relax here for the rest of the day or head home early, your choice!”

Max drops his stuff on the ground next to the couch, looking as if he’s considering the offer.

“Double dessert for all of next week and we’ll make it a deal, camp man.”

“I’ll make it until Tuesday, but you have to help me with  _ everything _ , alright?”

“Wednesday, and I  _ won’t _ leak your cellphone number online!”

“Deal!” 

Max assists David with the majority of the camp tasks, doing his best to ignore the strange situation he was in. He really didn’t want to think about the realities of what's currently happening in his life, because… yeah, it was kind of fucked up.

He definitely avoids thinking of his parents, but there would always be little things that would swing his mind back over to them. Something Max would do, a self-deprecating thought, or even some of the things that David would say (regardless of all of the reasons he  _ wasn't at all _ like them) would cause invasive memories to worm through his brain. Max would always do his best to push them back down. He went through the rest of the day on autopilot, focusing on the work, Max just wanting some sort of distraction.

TTTTTTTT

David stands, removing his bandana from his nose and taking a deep breath. The entire cabin smelled of whatever strong disinfectant David was using on the old fridge, some fake, chemical-laden pine odor wafting around the both of them. Max cringes as he ties off the bag of used paper towels and tosses it outside.

"Golly, is that harsh!" David follows Max outside, propping the cabin door open. “Alright, lets let the cabin air out a bit, do you want to do dinner? We can start another fire, although I think I only have some canned soup left, plus leftovers. Is that alright with you?”

Max shrugs, pulling David’s phone out of his hoodie pocket. “Don’t care. Do we have anything else to do today?” He checks the time, it’s almost 7pm, but the emotional drain combined with the manual labor made his eyes feel heavier than they would usually at this time. Dinner next to a fire would be nice, to be honest. Not that he’d let David catch on.

“Only cleaning out the fire pits, but we can do that before bed or tomorrow morning, if you’re up for it. After that, all we have to do is clean out the food stores and double-check the campground for anything that might attract animals.”

Max mumbles an affirmative, walking off to the fire pit by the lake with David’s phone, playing some mind-numbing game. He frowns when the low battery notification shows up, but keeps playing, not wanting to sit alone with his thoughts. He’ll have to ask David for that solar charger later.

Max doesn’t set out to build a fire, but David doesn’t seem to mind. Returning with some supplies for dinner, the counselor begins to prepare their meals with things from the mess kit, humming all the while. The boy glances up at David, knowing that the guy's likely trying to give him as much space as possible.

Max closes the game and watches David hum as he gets the fire going, idly contemplating if this comfortable, silent coexistence would continue into the counselor's home life. Although, if David is anything like he is at camp, then Max should be able to get what he wants relatively easily, including freedom and privacy.

David pulls out a small foil package, the sweet rolls from yesterday, probably, and pushes them near the steadily growing fire. Max's eyes linger on them for a few moments before a question pops into his mind. 

"Hey David, why the fuck aren't we allowed to have candy or sweets, and you're out here cooking fucking cinnamon rolls over a goddamn fire?!"

David gasps at the outburst. "Max! Language." He flips the buns and moves them to a better location near the hot coals. "That’s because, despite my  _ many  _ lectures on food storage and safety, you campers will  _ still _ end up keeping candy wrappers under your beds and in your tents. If you bring food out into the wilderness, it’s important that you store it properly, or else you’ll attract-”

Max dismisses him, lying down along the log and looking up at the sky. "Yeah, yeah, bears and diabetics. I listen, David. I just don't care."

David smiles, heating up the meals in a camping pot. "Well, I'm glad you understand, but some of your other, more… reckless campers don't, so rules like that are required." David shrugs. "If you do, though, that means if just the two of us go camping, then we can bring whatever we want!"

Max bites back a rude comment and quiets, leaving David to cook. He snaps open a water bottle and takes a long drink to avoid continuing the conversation. He fiddles with the label as he watches the sun set over the campgrounds.

Soon, Max notices David stand up and sit next to him. “Alright kiddo, here you go. Sorry if it’s not what you usually have, but it’s all I brought!”

A bowl hovers in front of him, and Max sits up and takes it silently. He focuses on eating, drowning out the events of the day.

He doesn’t really feel that hungry, anymore.

He eats about half of his meal, then places it aside and slides down the log to be closer to the fire. He curls his legs up to his chest, and the warmth is nice on his jeans. Now that he has a backrest, he can allow himself to relax without falling out of his seat. He huddles into his hoodie, shoving his hands in his pocket and sleeves.

His eyes grow heavier as David pulls the sweet buns out of the fire. He does kind of want one, but he also doesn’t want to move. While he would usually complain about sitting on the ground outside, he was  _ really _ comfortable right now. David doesn’t bother him, instead quietly plucking a roll off for himself and looking out over the lake with a fond smile. 

The last thing he sees before he dozes off is David’s head turning to him, saying something unintelligible before a giant, stupid,  _ beaming  _ grin plasters itself across the counselor’s face.

_ Stupid, happy idiot. _ He thinks.

TTTTTTTT

Max awakens in almost complete darkness, panicked and reeling. He quickly sits up, and his head spins from the sudden movement. He frantically searches the room for something to latch onto through his disorientation, finally settling on the faint glow of moonlight through the bedside window. His breathing slows as his mind gradually gathers the situation.

Right, he was at camp, in Gwen's room. David must have carried him here after dinner. He lies back down, looking around the room for something to tell the time, but the only thing he can find is a dull reflection off of the plastic of the digital alarm clock beside him. Right, no power.

He lies there for a bit, the fact that he doesn't know the time bugging him an unusually large amount. He could have been sleeping for an hour, for four hours, for six hours. He probably won't be able to get back to sleep, regardless of how much time has passed.

After a long while of him just lying there and letting his mind wander anxiously, Max sits up again, slinging his comforter off of him and sliding off of the bed. He picks up his folded hoodie from the bedside table, cringing at the thick smell of smoke still clinging to it. Man, he really needs his laundry done, and a shower. How long has it even been since he had a nice shower? He felt gross, either way. At least they were going back to David's house tomorrow. Today. Whatever.

Damn it, he still didn't know what fucking time it was.

He forgoes the hoodie, squinting around the room to find his backpacks. After stumbling upon them beside his bed, he digs through for a change of clothes and a second, identical hoodie. He didn't really  _ like  _ wearing his backups, his original was nice and comfortable, but he figures the stale smoke smell would probably just give him a headache after a while.

After changing into new clothes, he opens his bedroom door as silently as possible, padding across the room to David's. He opens his door just a crack, checking to make sure the counselor was still asleep.

He watches for a bit, and David shifts just the slightest, but his breathing remains steady. Convinced David’s asleep, Max creeps over to his bedside table, easily finding the pink phone attached to the solar battery. He grabs both, checking the time immediately to quell his unease.

2:47AM. He probably passed out at around 9:30 or so, woke up at around 2? Good, he got enough sleep to not feel like crap for the majority of the day, assuming he could snag a coffee sometime during the drive back. Unfortunately, he also notices that the phone’s battery is only at a measly 30%. David must have forgotten to charge the solar thing yesterday, fuck.

He stuffs the phone and the connected charger into his pocket, sneaking out of the room and shutting the door behind him. Plopping down on the couch and turning the brightness down all the way, he figures he probably has an hour and a half of game time before the thing dies, then he can probably take a walk outside or something until David wakes up. 

God, he was so excited to get back to civilization. 


	9. Chapter 9

David lies in bed, still restless after the unexpected turn of events throughout the day. His eyes flicker to his phone. It was almost 2 AM, and he hadn't gotten a lick of sleep since he put Max to bed at 10. He knows he has to get a decent amount of sleep in order to drive and make a whole bunch of complicated phone calls that afternoon, but thinking about  _ that _ just made him more and more anxious- and that anxiety therefore leads to less sleep. 

Vicious cycle. 

It's worth it to mention, he didn't mind  _ physically _ making the phone calls or the paperwork in the slightest, no. Max was well worth the effort, the kid deserved to be happy, and if that meant David putting in the time and effort to make it so, then gosh darn it he would do it with an entire song and dance. No, the actual work wasn't the problem.

It was the fear of messing it all up.

David would be the first to say that he was great with kids. Most people would probably agree too, if his glowing teacher and counselor evaluations held any merit. He could teach in a clear and concise manner, ran large group activities effortlessly, and could even get some of the most…  _ unruly  _ kids to participate and warm up to him, Max included. 

But  _ raising _ a child? Even disregarding all of the ways the actual paperwork and legal things could turn out, David, however positive he might seem to be, still wasn’t sure he could do the best for Max. He knew that this would be a better household than what he came from, sure, but that wasn’t something to phone home about. Heck, he wasn’t even sure if Max  _ enjoyed  _ his company. There were times where he thought he was taking steps forward, where he thought he was helping and Max was opening up, but then there were also times where he thought he was taking ten steps backwards, and he was sure that instability wasn’t something that would vanish in the coming days. Max was a complicated kid, with a complicated past, a past that David didn’t even know a lot about beyond some vague assumptions. 

He  _ thought _ he knew him, based on the months they’d spent together at Camp, but the Max that he saw back at his house, with his parents, proved different. David had to be careful with the boy, as he had no idea what words or actions might cause him to spiral back into the state that his father put him in, and that was the  _ last _ thing Max needed. If David could go the rest of his life without seeing him that scared, that panicked, he’d consider himself blessed, but the possibility of being the cause of that makes him incredibly nervous.

The best thing he could do was just take it one step at a time. First, he had to get Max into some proper schooling. It’ll take some time to actually get him enrolled, but David could probably get permission to let him sit in on his classes while the paperwork was getting processed. The real debate was whether to come clean with everything that was going on with the boy, or if he should come up with some white lies to keep them from prying too much- then again, the lies he’d already come up with were far-fetched to begin with. It wouldn’t take that much more to make the school suspicious.

In the middle of David’s thoughts, he hears the faint rattle of his bedroom door behind him. He doesn’t have to flip over to know it’s Max. He shuts his eyes and steadies his breathing, relaxing into a more natural position on his side to feign sleep. He strains his ears, waiting for anything, a name, a question. What was he even doing up at this hour, anyways? It had to be past 2:30 in the morning, at this point.

He hears Max's footsteps softly slide against the hardwood floor, then hears his phone and charger gently taken from his nightstand. He frowns then, which, thank goodness he was facing away from the boy, but still, did he really come in just to steal his phone again? As much as he didn't like to stereotype this generation, he did silently complain about their apparent infatuation with technology. 

Still, he let Max shuffle out of the room and close his door. As far as he knew, Max hasn't done much on it besides download a few games and surf the web. He checked his bank account and social media pages earlier that day, and they've both been left untouched, thank goodness.

David rolls onto his back and glances at his empty nightstand and then at the closed door, furrowing his brow in worry. Did Max normally not sleep well? Come to think of it, he was up earlier than David yesterday with his phone, too. These nights  _ have  _ been stressful, as evidenced by David's own insomnia, so he couldn't really blame him for not being able to sleep.

The kid also seemed to function better with a cup of coffee in the morning, but David didn't have any, here or at home. He didn't want to supplement a bad habit, but maybe he could pick up a small tin of the stuff Monday evening. Along with a coffee maker… and some filters… he'll take Max along, just to be sure. Should he move the shopping trip to Sunday? He didn't even think about how much food he had at home already, and it’s probably not the type of stuff that fits Max’s preferences.

David’s lips press into a thin line, and he sits up, hovering on the edge of his bed for a little bit, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. Should he check on Max? Would that be appreciated, or would it just bother him? Would he open up, or push him away? Everything was a gamble, and David just didn’t have a clue as to what the kid would respond well to. 

The counselor stands and crosses the room, quietly fumbling around in his backpack to pull out a book he packed. It wasn’t anything terribly interesting, a book of poetry his parents got him a long time ago, but it was an excuse to be up. Somewhat underhanded, but… gosh, he was so worried.

So, quietly, as to not scare the boy, David enters the living area.

TTTTTTTT

Max hears David’s door click open, and isn’t surprised when the man himself appears. His eyes draw back into the phone.

“David.” He greets.

“Hey, Max.” David walks over to the couch, taking a seat on the other side. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

Max stares down David for a few seconds, contemplating his motives. Is he out here to scold him? Did he know he took his phone?

He decides to shrug. “Just wanted to know the time, no electricity for the alarm clock.” He holds the phone and charger out to the counselor. “You can have it back, if you want.”

David shakes his head, opening up his book and positioning it in the moonlight. “I’m good, I just came out for better lighting, is all.”

Max pulls the phone back towards himself cautiously, turning it back on and reopening his own online book. The phone’s only gone down around 5%, so he should have enough power to keep reading until the sun comes up. He settles further into the couch, resuming his page. He tries to continue reading, but just winds up skimming over the same paragraph again and again. He sighs, rolling his head back on the arm of the couch and staring at the ceiling.

“David, why are you really out here? You were asleep like, half an hour ago.”

Max doesn’t look at David, but the man hesitates anyways. He chuckles. “Can’t fool you, Max. I was awake when you took my phone.” A pause. “I- I was just concerned about you, is all. Should I… head back?”

Max huffs, half wanting David to go back in his room, but also  _ somewhat _ enjoying the company. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine, too. Just couldn’t sleep.”

_ Like a stupid kid. _

“Can you usually not sleep?” David asks. 

“I get enough sleep.”  _ That doesn’t answer his question, dumbass. _

“You’re dodging the question.”  _ Yep, figures. _

“Jesus- fine, no, okay? I don’t get… a lot of sleep, but it doesn’t matter.”  _ Just please drop it. _

“Max, that isn’t good for you, I-”

Max’s head snaps up and he raises his voice, causing David to jump. “It  _ doesn’t _ matter, David. Stop treating me like a fucking kid, I’m  _ fine _ .” Shit, he was getting worked up.

David closes his book, looking tense. In a voice  _ much _ too soft for Max’s liking, he says “I just want to make sure you’re... okay, after everything.” 

Really? Alright, that’s it, screw being calm. “David, just  _ fucking _ stop, okay?" 

This is the time when David gets it through his thick head. "You’re acting weird- you’re acting  _ crazy _ weird, and I- I hate it! All today you’ve been talking to me in this stupid, small voice and giving me weird stares, thinking that I’m going to- to  _ break _ or some shit because you say the wrong thing!” 

Max sits up, suddenly using the increased lung capacity to yell. “I’m not some  _ fragile  _ little kid that’s going to have a goddamn  _ mental breakdown _ because you mention my parents or because you say something  _ marginally  _ upsetting, okay? I’ve been through worse- that, that  _ thing _ that I did at my parent’s house wasn’t normal, wasn’t- wasn't a regular thing."

He takes a moment to breathe. "I’m  _ fine, _ David. I’m still exactly the same fucking kid that steals your phone out from under your nose, blackmails entire organizations, sent Campbell to jail, and runs your entire  **_goddamned shitty summer camp!_ ** ” 

David blinks, taken aback by the rant, but relaxes some. He smiles that stupid, fucking smile, and then shakes his head, almost condescendingly.

Jesus Christ, Max is going to  _ fucking explode-  _

David, sensing this, holds the poetry book up like a shield. “Wait, Max- I  _ promise _ that I don’t think you’re fragile. Everything you said is absolutely right!” 

Max visibly calms, listening as David continues. “You’re more than some kid with a troubled home life, and even though I might have been… a bit nervous around you, I  _ do  _ know that you’re still the same Max that I spent the summer with." David lowers the book, setting it beside them on the coffee table. "That incident at your house doesn’t change the way I see you in the slightest, even if you don’t believe me.”

David’s smile evolves into one of genuine pride. “In fact, I think you’re probably one of the strongest, smartest, most resourceful kiddos I’ve  _ ever _ known. I just… I was worried, mostly about myself. The last thing I want to do is be an obstacle for you, like your parents are. I want to be supportive, I want to help you, I want to be there for you, but acting like you’re someone that needs to be handled with care, or in some sort of new, special way, isn’t the right way to do it. In fact, that would probably make me pretty mad, too.” He laughs.

“I promise, Max, that I’ll do my best to not treat you any differently. It was wrong of me, and... I’m sorry. I hope that you can forgive me.”

Max begins to cool off, fidgeting as he thinks about what David said. For some reason, the things he was saying made him… uncomfortable. Vulnerable, ironically. He couldn't tell anyone why that was.

He couldn't tell  _ himself _ why.

After a short silence, he groans and ruffles his own hair. 

“David, I- you’re  _ fine. I’m _ fine! There’s no way in hell that you could  _ ever _ be anything  _ close _ to how shitty they are." He lowers his voice some. "The whole fact that I’m here with you fucking  _ proves _ that.” He pauses for a little bit, and David lets him fidget and think. 

“Besides, your annoying, happy-go-lucky attitude is like, the exact opposite of my parents. I’m pretty sure it’s physically impossible for you to be an asshole like they were. Yeah, I was annoyed that you were treating me like a baby, but… thanks, I guess. For caring.”

David sniffles, and Max glances over to him, noticing that the man’s getting teary-eyed. The counselor opens up his arms, moving in for a hug, and Max almost falls off of the arm of the couch trying to back away from the affection. 

"Hey, HEY! No hugs! Personal space, camp man, I'm  _ warning _ you!"

David backs off, clasping his hands together and nodding, but he still has that stupid grin on his face. Max relaxes, sitting back down on the couch properly. 

"Don't- it doesn't mean that I _ like  _ it here or anything, so don't get your hopes up." His eyes flicker over for a split second. "And stop crying, David. You're like 25, it's gross."

David wipes his eyes, nodding again. "I can go back to my room, Max, if you want to keep playing games out here. You'll have plenty of time to sleep in the car, so don't worry too much about it."

Max rubs the back of his neck. "I, um… actually... think I'm gonna go to sleep. Here." Max holds David's phone and charger out to him, and the counselor gently takes them. "I… don't think I'll need this anymore. Thanks, though." 

Max jumps off the couch, wandering to his room. Shortly before reaching the doorway, David speaks in a soft, tired voice.

"Goodnight, Max." He says. "Sweet dreams."

Max hesitates, opening his bedroom door and stepping in before turning around to face David.

"I- yeah. You too, David. Goodnight."

He quietly shuts the door, pulling off his hoodie and crawling in bed. It takes him a little bit, but eventually, after hearing David enter his own bedroom, Max manages to get a few extra hours of sleep that night. 

It’s not quite 8, but it’ll do.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay guys, I had no internet for the past weekend as I was undergoing a HUGE unplanned move!   
> On the bright side, you get another chapter tomorrow! Thanks for being patient. <3

_"Ugh..."_   


“Oh jeez, I woke you up, didn't I? Well, good morning, Max!”

Max blinks up at David sleepily, then looks out the newly opened window, the sun barely casting a glow on the early morning sky.

Max groans again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What time is it, even?” 

“It is-” David checks his watch, and Max notices the assortment of cleaning supplies he holds. “almost 7! Want me to get started on some breakfast, or do you want to wait?”

Max blinks, sitting up and swinging his feet over the side of the bed. “Jesus Christ David, did you like, sleep? At all?”

David smiles self-consciously, running his hand through his hair. “I, um- tried to get some sleep, but was still too restless, so I got some stuff done instead! Washed my hair, my face, did some cleaning in the bathhouse, and cleaned up a little bit in here, so I stayed nice and productive. I was just about to sweep out the firepits!”

Max drags his hands down his face. “Nope, it’s too early for this, gimme your phone. I’ll have breakfast whenever.”

David grins, piling all the cleaning supplies into one hand to hand over the device. “No problem, kiddo! I’ll have food up in a jiffy.”

TTTTTTTT

The rest of the day goes by smoothly, and Max convinces David to leave the campground at around 12pm. Although the counselor was reluctant to leave, he conceded, mumbling something about “a hefty chore list” to take care of anyway.

Turns out that David didn’t live too far from Max’s place, it was the county just beside his, one a little more out into the countryside. It took them an extra 45 minutes to get to David’s house, but they stopped for pizza along the way, as promised, and Max got a little nap in during the drive, so it wasn’t all that bad. However, although he wouldn’t admit it, he was still somewhat concerned for David. He didn’t sleep  _ at all _ last night, yet the camp man’s enthusiasm was still unwavering, so Max allowed the worry to be temporarily brushed aside. 

Max looked up from David’s phone when the man pulled into a long, wooded driveway. Closing out of his game, he peered through the trees to catch a glimpse of where David lived. He knew he was going to have plenty of time to see it when he was  _ living _ with him (a fact that was finally beginning to settle in) but he was still curious. He half-expected the home to be a tent, or a log cabin, or some other outrageous yet expected camp-themed home.

He's underwhelmed when he sees a relatively normal grey home with ivory trim nestled between the trees. It’s modest, cozy, and has a few flowerpots and window planters dotted along the exterior walls of both the first and second floor. A small staircase at the front of the house leads up to a rich redwood door and a patio with two chairs and a tiny table sit in front of a large, shaded window. As they drive up the nicely paved driveway, exterior lights flip on and the attached garage door slides open, but David doesn’t pull in, instead opting to stop in the space right in front of it and parking the car.

“Alrighty Max, here we are! Home sweet home.” He cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt, noticing Max taking in the sight in front of him. He smiles nervously. “I know it’s not anything like your place, or even camp, but I hope you’ll love it as much as I do!”

Max rolls his eyes, sliding out of the car. “David, I don’t think I can love  _ anything _ as much as you do, so you’re just setting yourself up for failure.” Slamming the door, he moves to the backseat to grab his stuff, discovering David had already removed the small blue backpack along with some camping supplies before him. He shrugs on his grey backpack and gathers his bedding, watching David shuttle the camping gear from his car to the garage.

Max slowly makes his way to the front door, not minding having to wait for David as he unpacks the car. He looks around, through the dense treeline surrounding the home, but there doesn’t seem to be any other houses or paths within a few acres, unlike the cramped and cluttered houses in his own suburban neighborhood.

“Hey, David!” Max calls out. “How much land do you even  _ own _ ?!”

“Hmm?” He yells from the garage. “Oh, not that much, only about five acres. The land around this area is  _ very _ affordable!” David pops outside, the garage door sliding shut shortly after his exit. “After all, it’s mostly forest, and not in an outstanding location by most people’s standards.”

David walks up the porch, Max following short behind, and unlocks the front door to walk inside. The man stands in the doorway, holding the door open for Max and beaming down a huge smile. 

Max hesitates. It feels… weirdly personal to be entering David’s home, even if he was going to be living here. He takes a few cautious steps forward, crossing the threshold of the house, and slowly looks around, curiosity getting the better of him.

“So!” David says, closing the door behind them and seemingly oblivious of Max's inner turmoil. “Living room’s here, if you go straight, that’s the kitchen, attached to the kitchen and the living room is the dining room, and then down this left hallway is my office and a half-bath. Upstairs are the bedrooms and another bathroom”

Max, for the most part, tuned the counselor out, choosing to make his own observations. From what he saw, the inside of the house was rather plain, if he was being honest. David was standing on some carpeted stairs, talking and allowing Max to follow on his own time, rattling away about the house. The entire place had pretty minimal decoration, the bulk of it being family photos and simple landscape paintings. The living room consisted of the standard furnishings, couch, loveseat, television, etc., but the things that gave it a very ‘David’ personality were the mounds of blankets and pillows draped across the furniture combined with the packed bookshelves framing the entertainment system. It wasn’t cluttered, per se, but it gave the room a cozy feel. 

Max turns his attention back to David, who’s still smiling at the foot of the stairs holding his backup backpack. David points up the stairwell. “If you want to hang out down here, I can get your room ready. I have a guest room you can use, right down the hall from mine!” His voice was chipper as always, but a little hesitant.

Max frowns, clutching his backpack tighter. He felt uncomfortable in the strange home, and David's demeanor didn't help. “Yeah, yeah, just taking a look around. Is this your own place, then? No parents, roommates?” Max starts to follow David, climbing the stairs and dragging his comforter behind him.

“Mhm.” David nods. “Used to be my parents’ house, but then my mom retired… two years ago? I basically inherited it.” He shrugs.

“I always wondered how you could support yourself under Campbell’s shitty pay, I guess this plus the teacher job explains it.” 

David takes a right, walking down to the end of the hall and entering the farthest room. “I don’t know what else to say, Max. I love working at camp!”

Max follows David into the guest room, taking note of the large bed and the more decorative furniture in comparison to the living room. There wasn’t a television or any electronics, but there was a big bureau, two windows, a desk, and end tables on either side of the bed that was, again, piled high with fluffy blankets and pillows. The room was almost devoid of any personal possessions or decor, however. Very bare.

“Everything is clean, but if there’s any dust then you can let me know and I’ll run everything through a wash. We can open the windows to air it out when we go grocery shopping, too!” David looks down at Max, who sets his backpack down and jumps onto the bed with his blanket and pillow.

“It’s probably fine, David. My clothes need to be washed more than anything, and I REALLY need a fucking shower. Where’s your bathroom and stuff?”

“ _ Language. _ ” David scolds. “The bathroom’s right here- right across the hall from the guest room! The one downstairs is a half-bath, so it doesn’t have a shower. The one up here is a full. Towels are in the closet in there, um-” David walks across the hall to the bathroom, checking the closet for towels, and Max follows, pulling his backpack with him. “If we ever run out, there are more usually in the laundry room. You can use my shampoo and everything, but we can get some of whatever you prefer when we go to the store-”

Max walks around David and shoves at the man's legs, attempting to push him out of the bathroom. “Jesus David, I may be a kid but I’m not braindead, I can take my own goddamn shower.”

David jumps to avoid being hit by the door again, and narrowly dodges that painful fate. It slams without obstacle. “Just do whatever you need to do, and we can go to the store whenever, alright?” Max calls out.

“Um- alright, Max! Just yell if you need anything!” David says through the door. “I’ll probably be downstairs!” He awaits a response, but only receives a grunt of acknowledgment, which is probably the best he’s going to get. Shifting on the carpet, David walks downstairs, but not before grabbing Max’s old backpack from his room and bringing it with him.

TTTTTTTT

“Good fucking  _ lord _ I feel better.”

Max steps out of the shower in his towel, shoving his old clothes off of the toilet seat and unzipping the backpack that holds all of the new stuff he grabbed from his parents’ house.  _ Wish my old clothes didn’t reek of smoke, or else-  _

Max pauses, staring at one of the things that was unexpectedly in his backpack. He slowly pulls out his half of the Sparrow staff, furrowing his brow in confusion.

_ I… don't remember packing this. _ He thinks back, he almost completely forgot this thing existed, let alone how it got here. He only really packed the things he thought were essential- he pretty much ignored the sentimental stuff.

Then again, he didn't really have a lot of sentimental stuff. Just Mr. Honeynuts, who was already at camp with him, and… this, he guesses. It's not like he cared for family photos or gifts, for obvious reasons. He turns the thing over in his hands, rubbing his thumb along the painted grooves. This was the only kind of sentimental thing he owned. It must've gotten into his backpack before he left, somehow.

_ Oh. _ It dawns on him.  _ It was probably David, huh? _

Max considers whether he should be mad at the counselor or not for snooping in his room, but lets it go. He probably saw it sitting around or hanging from his door when he was in his room for a brief time. Ultimately, the outcome was positive, so he wouldn't complain.

Unless David brought it up, of course. Max would never admit the weird, unwarranted attachment he had to this thing. It was just a stick.

He pulls out a new change of clothes, a pair of black jeans and a white shirt along with a deep red zip-up, all of which uncomfortably starchy from lack of wear and his parents' stupid standards for laundry. Max slips the staff back into his backpack and wraps the towel around his neck, picking up his old clothes and exiting the bathroom.

He tosses everything in his room and looks for his grey backpack to grab his toothbrush, but it isn't there. Max frowns, choosing to find David to figure out what he did with his stuff.

He wanders downstairs, quickly picking up the sound of David's humming and following it to the kitchen. He walks in, noticing the counselor writing on something at the kitchen's middle island. He looks up once Max appears.

"Hey kiddo, you all done?" David asks, scribbling something down on what Max now sees is a tiny notebook. 

"Yeah, what'd you do with my stuff?" He asks, taking the time to look around the nicely decorated kitchen. It was actually larger than his parents', the appliances and counters seemingly all new and clean, although the entire house felt that way.

"Hmm? Oh! You mentioned your clothes needed washing, so I started a load, I had some stuff from Camp too, so it was the perfect size. Your backpack is in the laundry room, which is right behind you."

Max spins around, noticing a door opening out to the direction of the garage. He enters the laundry room, the washer's quiet humming filling the space. His backpack sits right beside the washer, Mr. Honeynuts peeking out the top. Max digs through his backpack, finding his assorted toiletries in a small plastic bag, then zips it back up, leaving it to sit in the laundry room.

"So," Max says, walking back over to David. "What's on the agenda, camp man? It's only like, 4 o'clock."

"Well, we have to go shopping!" David scribbles another thing down, then folds up the note and slips it in his back pocket. "I didn't have much to eat in the first place, but now that you're staying here, I definitely need to stock up. We can head out as soon as you're ready!"

Max grunts a reply and nods, then heads upstairs to brush his teeth without another word. He returns a few minutes later with a small smartphone and David looking through the fridge a second time. "Ready." He says, snapping David out of whatever mumbling daze he was in. "What's your wifi password?" He asks.

David closes the fridge and pats his pockets, finding his phone still on him. He tilts his head at Max, pointing down at the device. "Why do you always steal my phone if you have your own?" He asks.

Max snorts. "My parents got it for me so I would shut up and sit in my room all day. Figured it was a nice  _ quiet _ thing for me to do. They wouldn't let me take it to camp though, and usually they freak out if I run off with it. Too expensive." He wiggles the device in front of David. "Plus, no cell service anyway. Wifi, now."

David hands Max a slip of paper off the fridge, and Max grimaces as he types in the unchanged 16-digit password. 

"You know, we should probably get you service for that." David mentions. "It'll be useful if I need to contact you."

Max rolls his eyes. "David, it's 2019, there's basically WiFi literally any square inch you walk. Of course my parents sent me to the one camp without it. I've got a texting app anyway, it's fine." Max hands back the paper, then spins around to walk toward the entryway, wanting to get out of the house as soon as possible. 

"We going, or what?"

TTTTTTTT

"Alright Max, what type of things do you like to eat?"

Max and David walk through the supermarket together, the counselor pushing a full cart, and Max following close behind, minding his own business.

Max keeps his eyes focused on his game, attempting to tune David out. He really didn't  _ want _ to be out running errands with the counselor, but it was better than staying in an unfamiliar house, especially alone. Though, the fact that the duo stood out like a sore thumb made him a little anxious. Even their clothes were complete opposites.

"Hey, you in there kiddo?" David continues, turning around to look at the boy and ruffling his hair.

Max swats away the man's hands, then fixes his hair and makes a show of rolling his eyes and acting indignant. "David, I ate the Quartermaster's shitty potatoes for three months, I think I can stomach whatever you make." 

David gasps. "Max! You know Quartermaster takes great pride in his homemade potatoes, I don't think the recipe has changed even since I was a camper there- probably longer!" David smiles, pushing the cart further down the aisle.

Max stuffs his phone into his pocket. "Probably  _ longer _ ? Jesus fuck, how old  _ is  _ the dude? Is he immortal or some shit?" 

David's eyes dart around to the empty aisle, hissing a quick  _ "Max, language!” _ at the boy. Max brushes him off and kind of does cringe at the unintended volume of his voice, but does pick out a few things at the store to calm the man down. He ends up dropping some spices (after confirming that David doesn't have what he wanted), frozen meals, cereals, and boxed dinners he remembered liking into the cart, much to the delight of his new guardian. 

Once they got to the checkout, Max plops a candy bar or two onto the conveyor belt, but David doesn't seem to mind, and even chooses one for himself. Max scowls, sad he couldn't get a rise out of the man, but considers the sweet treats a win.

As David steps up to pay, the cashier greets them as he scans their items, but his gaze regularly shifts from David to Max (but mainly at Max), eyebrows furrowing in thought. He doesn't make much in the vein of conversation, either, despite being completely willing to make small talk with the middle-aged women behind them when they depart with their bags. Needless to say, Max stared him down during the entire exchange, his mind reeling as the possible things the deadbeat teenager was probably thinking.

"David." Max says, scooting into the passenger's seat.

"Max!" David replies enthusiastically.

Max suppresses an eye roll. "Did you notice the cashier like… looking at us?" He asks, somewhat unsure.

"Hmm." David puts the car into reverse, glancing at Max as he turns around to pull out of the parking spot. "I can't say I didn't notice it, but I can understand his interest." He smiles, pulling out of the parking lot. "We  _ are  _ a pretty unique pair, aren't we?"

Max studies David's face for a hint of unease, but it's either invisible or nonexistent. "You know, your cluelessness is usually pretty entertaining when it's directed towards me, but when others get you, it's kind of annoying." 

"Oh Max," he sighs. "I know our situation might seem somewhat… strange, but don't worry about it! It's not that I didn't notice, I’m just not bothered. To me, what matters is what  _ you _ think."

Max accepts the statement, shoving his hands into his sweatshirt pockets, but the entire exchange still feels off. He steals a glance at David as they begin the drive home.

His face, free of worry a moment ago, now wears a small expression of concern.

Max looks out the window.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, another chapter. Next one is on Friday!  
> Also, I'm kind of slow to update these on Fanfiction.net, if anyone reads there. I'll probably be updating on there sometime this week.  
> Also also, WOAH! We're at over 2000 hits and almost 250 kudos! Thank you everyone!

Max swore up and down that he didn't care about David. It was who he was, things were easier if you  _ didn't care _ . Trust no one, keep to yourself, prioritize yourself. Then, you wouldn't be let down when they inevitably disappoint you 

So,  _ why  _ did he care if he was a burden to him?

David was an insufferable, annoying, happy-go-lucky camping dork. He was naive, emotional, gullible, too trusting, and too selfless, almost exactly the opposite of who Max wanted to be. Who Max  _ was. _ For fuck's sake, the man thought that  _ Campbell  _ was the perfect role model up until Max proved otherwise. It was sickening, really. 

So no, Max did  _ not  _ care whatsoever if he was a burden. It was David's fault, really, he had every chance to drop him off at the station, or with his parents, or just fucking leave him at camp. 

He had to not care. 

(He didn't know how to handle it if he did.)

They pull into David's driveway for the second time that day, and the quiet pop music the counselor was humming to cuts out with the engine. Max helps David bring in the huge amount of groceries and whatever miscellaneous things he decided to purchase for Max. (Despite his protests against the spending.)

After they put away the groceries, David stands with one hand on his hip as he looks at his phone.

"Alright, it’s a little past 6, do you want to grab some dinner? I'm not quite up for cooking right now since I have a lot of work to do tonight, but we can get delivery!” David pulls out his phone and scrolls through it for a moment. “How about Chinese?” He asks.

Max opens the fridge, surveying their bounty. "I don't know, I can just make a sandwich or something, I've never had Chinese, at least from a fast food joint."

David pauses for a moment. "You've never had Chinese take-out before?” He asks.

Max just shrugs, closing the fridge and scuffing his shoes on the linoleum. David smiles. “Well, I guess we’ll just make this your first time then. We have a great place nearby, I can pick out something for you. Do you like seafood? Spicy food?"

Max considers giving David the typical 'I don't care' answer, but after contemplating it for a moment, replies honestly. "I like pretty much any meat, including seafood. I’m not a wuss, so spicy shit is fine. I’m really not that picky with food, David."

David nods, happy to get some feedback from the boy, and goes off to order, letting Max know he'll be in his office for most of the night. Max decides to sit in front of the TV to watch murder mysteries all night. Lucky for him, there’s a marathon tonight.

The delivery driver comes and goes, and the meal Max gets is colorful and  _ full _ of all types of seafood and vegetables. He eats it contentedly, sitting in front of the TV and chewing on the ends of his chopsticks long after his plate is empty. The television manages to keep his mind mostly silent for the night, which is a nice contrast from the past few days.

Checking the clock, he notices with surprise that he's been sitting here for almost three hours, and he hasn't seen a hair of David since he handed him his food. Curious, he wanders into the study.

He looks around as he walks through the open doorway, taking note of the rows upon rows of books lining the walls. David's desk faces a large window looking out into the forest beside his house, and Max can see his slumped shoulders as he rests his head on his first, the other hand holding his cellphone to his ear. Max hesitates as he walks up to David's desk, noticing him speaking in harsh, whispered tones, something unfamiliar for Max to hear. It immediately puts the boy in a state of unease.

"Yes, I'm- No, I'm aware of the time, I just need one more thing… yes." He scribbles something down on a piece of paper, then runs his hand through his hair before resting it over his eyes. Max takes note of the fake enthusiasm in the man’s voice. "Okay- tomorrow, then. No, no- I can take off! 9 AM is fine, it would be easier than going through the school... Yes… sorry for the trouble! Thank you." He hangs up the phone and sighs, waking up his desktop to look at an email list.

Max chooses now to speak up, albeit hesitantly. "Uh, David?” he asks. “Everything... okaaaaay…?"

David pauses, spinning around in his desk chair with a strained, tired smile. "Oh, hey kiddo. You should probably head to bed soon, yeah?" Max notices with a frown that his eyes were starting to droop from fatigue.

Max steps forward, peering at the paperwork piled on David's desk. "What about you? Don't you have work or something tomorrow?" He pulls down a piece of paper, glancing at it. "Unless you're sitting here grading papers or some shit."

David plucks the paper from Max's hand, but keeps it hovering it in the air to allow him to see it regardless. All of the numbers and boxes and names made it look… very official. "I’m just finishing off some paperwork for your enrollment. I don't think I'll be able to get all of it done until Wednesday, but I'm working on letting you sit in on my classes!" He sets the paper back on his desk, then stacks the documents neatly. "I always have fun activities and demonstrations- oh, you could even help! For tomorrow, I-"

"Pass." Max interrupts. "I'm gonna head to bed. I suggest you go to sleep at least some time tonight. And by  _ tonight _ I mean in the next  _ two hours _ , David. You haven't slept for like, over 30 hours now."

David spins around and checks the time on his computer. "Gosh, I had no idea it was this late! Don't worry kiddo, I should be getting to bed soon, so go ahead and head up without me."

Max turns around, waving over his shoulder. "Not like I was gonna wait for you. 'Night."

David smiles before slowly swivelling back to face his computer. "Goodnight, Max. Sweet dreams."

Max heads upstairs, plugs in his phone, changes into pajamas (that were waiting folded in a laundry basket along with the rest of his clothes and Mr. Honeynuts) and slides underneath the heavy covers. After settling, he then stuffs his own comforter underneath everything else so he can feel the familiar fabric against his skin. 

He lies there for a long while trying to sleep. He kicks off the blankets, throws off a few pillows, tosses, turns, stares at his phone, pulls the covers  _ back _ on, and buries his face in his bear, but nothing seems to help him drift off. It didn’t help that the bed was weirdly soft, a stark contrast to the stiff memory foam mattress he usually slept on. He checks the time on his phone for what seems like the millionth time that night and groans. Midnight.

And he still hadn't heard David go to his room yet.

_ No _ . He thinks.  _ That is  _ **_not_ ** _ what's causing my insomnia. He can stay awake for a week for all I care. _

Except for the fact that he was up because of  _ him _ . Going through all this effort for  _ him _ . He saw how exhausted he was, could hear the frustration behind his voice. It was the same one his parents had when he was inconveniencing them, too.

_ Stop _ . He thinks.  _ David isn’t them. _

It was only temporary, after all. David could send him back to his parents whenever he wanted to, when Max inevitably became too much to handle. He could probably  _ ask _ David to go home too, whenever he wanted to. David couldn’t keep a kid here against his will or anything.

Max hears a noise from the hallway, David finally trudging up the stairs, and his thoughts thankfully halt. He listens intently to the man's footsteps, happy that he's finally going to sleep after toiling at his stupid paperwork for so long. 

He hears  _ his _ door open, which causes his heart rate to jump and his breath to catch. David's coming in his room? Why? What? Did he know Max was awake? Was he in trouble?

" _ Max? _ " A whisper.  _ David's  _ whisper. That's right, he was with David. Not at home. What would David do?

He hears David's soft steps on the carpet, and then feels the bed slowly dip. 

That's right. When David found him awake at camp, what did he do?

A small laugh. "I know you're awake, Max." He says in a soft voice.

He joined him, and didn't scold him, didn't yell at him. 

Max opens his eyes to David sitting on the bed next to him, the warm light from the hallway illuminating his face just enough to see the tired smile ghosting across his features.

_ It’s just David. _

"Yeah? What's it to you,  _ Davey _ ?" Max flips over onto his back, rubbing his eyes. "And how'd you know?"

"Just making sure you're alright, I mean, neither of us have been sleeping lately." A pause. "It's something my mom used to do, I guess.” He chuckles quietly. “She would hover over my bed to make sure I was breathing throughout the night."

"That’s creepy, David.” He says. “But it still doesn't tell me how you knew."

David touches a hand to his chin. "I'm not sure if I should really tell you, but your face scrunched up when I whispered your name."

"Obviously because you woke me up, moron." Max bites back, the lie sharp on his tongue.

David laughs, again. "Okay, Max."

They sit there for a moment, David just looking at the boy silently. He moves to stand up, and Max suddenly doesn't want him to leave.

"How long will I be… staying here?" Max asks on impulse. 

David seems taken aback by the question, and settles back on the bed. He rests his hands in his lap, clasping them together to keep himself from fidgeting. "I… don't really know, bud. I know this isn't ideal for you, but I promise I'll do the best that I can in the meantime, alright?"

"Which means you're staying up until fuck knows when signing stupid papers?"

David purses his lips, but his eyes soften. "Oh, Max…" he breathes. "It's just… busy work. I'm happy to do it. This should be pretty much everything, and I'm taking off work tomorrow morning, too, so I can get a few extra hours of sleep in." A smile cuts through the darkness. "I'm gonna take care of all of it as soon as possible, so don't worry about that."

"I'm not… worried." Max says, at least not for the reasons David was thinking of. Another question pops into his steadily fogging mind. "What do I do while you're teaching? You mentioned sitting in on your classes…?"

"Ah." David responds. "Well, I don't think getting you into work with me is going to work. I'm already calling in late, so I thought I would get a sitter-"

This rings in Max's head loud and clear. "A  _ sitter?”  _ he asks, turning his head to face David completely. “David, I was at camp for  _ weeks _ alone and I was fine, and you-"

"I- I know, Max.” David interrupts. “I know, just… please?" The man fidgets nervously, and Max could see his hands clutching tighter together. "It’s only one day, and it would make things a whole lot easier on me knowing you’re safe.”

Max considers the request, sighing and turning away from David. “Whatever. Just make sure they can handle me.”

The bed jumps from David’s surprise, and Max can hear the smile in his voice. “Really? Gosh, thank you so much Max, I promise that I’ll-”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to be nice to them,  _ David! _ ” Max snaps, turning and jabbing a finger at the counselor. “I will put them through the  _ fucking _ wringer, do you understand me?!”

“Loud and clear, kiddo!” David responds enthusiastically. “And it’ll only be for the one day, for a few hours. I’ll make my way back right after work.” 

Max hears the man sigh, like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. That was good, one less thing for David to worry about, meaning a couple more minutes of sleep for the idiot. It would be inconvenient for him to get in a car crash or some shit tomorrow while driving to work.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep tonight?" David asks. It sounds like a genuine question, it lacks the sadness, caution, or pity of the previous few days.

Max shifts again. "Yeah David, I'm fine. You woke me up anyway, remember."

David laughs again. "Alright kiddo, I should probably be getting to bed too." His presence on the bed vanishes, and Max hears him walk away. "If you need anything, let me know. I'll just be down the hall, okay? Sweet dreams."

Max snorts, but there's not a lot of venom in it. His eyes begin to droop sleepily. "Loser. 'Night."

David smiles, then slowly shuts the door to Max's room with a soft click, quietly padding down the hallway to his own room. He closes the door to change, but opens it back up afterwards in case Max might need something. He plugs his phone into its charger for the night, but hesitates, staring the device down in contemplation.

He unplugs it, checking the charge and the time before swiping through his contacts, dialing one of his recents. He listens to the phone ring for a long few seconds, tapping his heel restlessly.

The ringing stops, and there's a long pause. David's about to speak up when a voice comes through the other line.

"David. Why, the  _ fuck _ , are you calling me in the middle of the night?"

David smiles, swallowing nervously and speaking quietly. "Oh, uh- hi Gwen! Listen, I have a favor to ask of you, I'm in a little bit of a sticky situation..."

"I swear to  _ god _ . It's fucking midnight. You know I go to school  _ and _ work, I don't have time for any of your 'emergencies' right now. I'm not coming over to kill a spider, or some equally pathetic bullshit, okay?"

"No, no, it's not anything like that-" David stutters. He knew how Gwen got when he woke her up.

"I'm hanging up now."

"Wait!" David grimaces at his volume, glancing at the bedroom door. Gosh, this is a real emergency,  _ please _ don’t hang up. "I'll pay you!" He whispers.

Another, longer pause.

"I'm listening." Gwen replies. 


	12. Chapter 12

David wakes to his alarm at 8:30 in the morning, happily satisfied with the solid 8 hours of deep sleep he managed to get. He stretches, then heads out of his room in his pajamas, cringing at the cool hardwood floors and quickly hopping over into the carpeted hallway. He catches a glimpse of Max’s open bedroom door and peeks into the boy’s room to find it surprisingly empty. He turns his head to find that the upstairs bathroom is similarly vacant. No Max. 

He descends the staircase and enters the kitchen, the early morning sun shining through the large sliding glass door and lighting the kitchen in a warm glow, despite the cool temperature of the home. David finds Max sitting at the kitchen table idly with his phone, strategically seated within the sunbeam shining through the window. He glances up as David walks in.

“Morning, Max.” David says. The boy grunts a greeting and cozies further into his freshly washed hoodie. 

“You cold?” The counselor asks. “It’s probably warmer in the living room, and there’s blankets.” The chill  _ was _ starting to get to him at night. He should probably start turning on the heat now that it’s cooling down, especially with Max in the house.

Max shrugs. “Sun’s warm enough.”

Accepting the tired explanation with a smile, David heads over to the fridge for breakfast. Maybe he’ll turn the heat up just a little, or give the kiddo more blankets, there definitely was an abundance of them around the house.

David sets a carton of eggs and a gallon of milk on the counter, and as he’s about to ask Max if eggs were alright again, he notices a bowl and spoon sitting alone in the sink. He abandons his previous question for another.

“Max, did you already eat?” He asks.

Max mumbles again, before clarifying. “Yeah, sorry it’s not in the dishwasher, I can’t reach the cupboards to put the clean stuff away, I already tried.” A quick glance over, and he returns to looking at his phone. “Didn’t wanna stand on your counters or anything.” 

David blinks, the tense answer and all of the uncomfortable red flags it raises ringing in his ears. He smiles his characteristic grin, choosing to avoid worrying about it for Max’s sake, or maybe his. 

“Oh Max, don’t worry about the dishwasher, I can get it.” He continues his questioning, but begins to prepare his own breakfast. “How long have you been up?”

Max swipes some on his phone, but hesitates. “...Hour and a half to two hours or something. Got up, took a shower, ate, nothing good on TV so I came here to sit in the sun once it came up.”

“Oh.” David replies,  _ further  _ concerned about the boy’s seemingly frequent insomnia. He’ll have to keep tabs on that, probably. He continues to prepare his meal, foregoing a pan for a quick omelette-maker. “So, I have a surprise for you today!” He says, trying to lighten the mood.

“Is it a bonfire?” Max asks sarcastically, and memories of disappointed campers well up in David’s mind. No, he wasn’t going to make that mistake again, however well it did happen to turn out.

“No, not a bonfire, but if you want one, we can-”

“Is it a puppy?!” Max asks, perking up with uncharacteristic enthusiasm and glimmering eyes. The sight warmed David’s heart, almost bringing a tear to his eye. Max was  _ never _ that excited about anything! Gosh, it hurt to have to deny him of this. 

“Um… not a puppy, either.” he says with a heavy heart. “It’s hard to have animals when you leave for camp for a few months, but… if you’re that excited, maybe I can make an exception-”

Max slumps back down in his chair, his face returning to it’s usual, bored expression. “David, I was fucking with you. I don’t want a puppy.” He deadpans. 

“Language.” David scolds, pursing his lips. How the kid always managed to catch him with his tricks, he’ll never know. It wasn’t that easy for his other students, that’s for sure. Always just Max.

“Well, I’ll leave it as a surprise for now, but I know you’ll love it!” He pops the raw omelette into the microwave, grimacing a bit at the lackluster breakfast. He would usually make it properly, except he only had about 15 minutes to eat and gather his paperwork before he has to make that phone call to Max’s parents, and  _ then _ he has to shower and shave and leave the house in time to get to the school before 10:00 AM.

He puts away the fixings, and once the microwave beeps David quickly plates his omelette along with a handful of fruits and veggies. As he does this, he talks over his shoulder at Max.

“I’m going to have to head out a little bit before 10:00, so the sitter is supposed to be here at 9:30. I should be out of the shower by then, hopefully, but if not could you answer the door for her? I made sure to get the best, like you said.” David turns towards Max, smiling and awaiting a response before receding to his study.

“I didn’t say that.” Max mentions offhandedly. “But yeah, I can get the damn door, David.”

David brightens, turning towards his study with a skip in his step. “Thank you so much buddy! Alright, I’ll be right in here if you need me.”

David disappears into the study, and Max leaves the kitchen to watch TV, now at a reasonable time where the channels weren’t dominated by paid commercial programming. He switches over to some sort of sciencey documentary that Neil would probably get a boner over and tunes out everything else around him, content to absorb any information that he found worthy like a sponge. While TV mostly consisted of mind-numbing garbage of the genre that Gwen liked to watch, Max was convinced that  _ good _ TV, the stuff that you could actually learn from, was great.

Hell, he figured even David would agree, if his preferred programming wasn't murder mysteries, conspiracy theories, and drug documentaries.

Well, he'd probably like the nature shit. Maybe that was something they could watch together. David gets to see cute animals and trees, and Max gets to enjoy the thrill of the chase as a lion mauls a buffalo. Compromise.

Despite his focus on the television, Max still heard David move around the house as he got ready for work, his mind wandering from the television to the various ways he’d terrorize and traumatize his sitter within the first 15 minutes. He debated distracting her and full-on Home Alone-ing her with one of his contraptions, but he didn’t really wanna fuck up the house too much, so he rolled some more verbal and emotional tactics through his mind while the documentary played on in the background.

He wasn’t so far gone to miss the doorbell when it eventually signalled the arrival for whatever unfortunate soul David had managed to hire at such short notice. Keeping good on his promise, Max slowly slid off of the couch and trudged over to the front door, jumping back at the last second to avoid being barrelled over by a frantic David, water still dripping from the counselor’s apparently wet hair. 

"Ope, sorry kiddo, but this is perfect!" David unlocks the door and runs a hand across his hair a few times, spraying water  _ all _ over an irritated Max.

Dramatically, he crouches down in front of the boy, eyes gleaming  _ far  _ too much for how early it still was. "Alright Max, ready to meet your-"

The front door is shoved open, and an irritated yet familiar voice breaks into the house. "David, what the hell are you doing?"

The pieces in Max's mind click together instantly, causing his eyes to blow wide in disbelief. David stands up straight, pouting as he opens the door to reveal a bored Gwen.

"Aw, you ruined the grand reveal!" He complains, but still pulls the former co-counselor into an awkward half-hug. "It's Gwen! Surpriiiiise!” 

Max recoils back, pointing at the woman in front of him with disgust and yelling. "Seriously David?! You got  _ this  _ she-devil to babysit me?!" Then his face contorts  _ again _ , upon realization of what her presence actually meant. 

His voice drops and his eyes narrow at David. "You  _ told _ her?" He hisses. The razor sharp edge to his voice and the shift in tone cut clean through David's frazzled mind, if his gaping mouth and wide green eyes had any meaning behind them.

"I- uh…" Max watched David sputter, he was  _ clearly _ not thinking about his actions whatsoever. 

Gwen, reading the tone of the room, quickly walks between them, wrenching the doorknob from David's grip and giving Max a steely glare. 

"Max, lay off." She punctuates her remark by slamming the front door, and then turns towards David, talking to him in a strange, gentle tone. "Don't worry about it Davey. You gotta go, don't you? I can handle the little demon, so don’t worry."

"I- yeah." David seems to snap out of his funk, but still glances between Gwen and Max with a shred of worry lining his features. "Sorry, Max. We can talk later?" He runs a hand through his hair, nervously this time. "Gwen's right, I do have to go, I think I'm already running late."

Gwen removes her coat and hangs it in the closet beside the front door, and Max  _ definitely _ takes note of the strange familiarity she seems to have with David's house. He eyes her suspiciously. "C'mon Satan, TV." she says. 

Max follows closely behind, not challenging the nickname but still fixing his gaze onto the female counselor rather than the now deflated David. He hears the man linger in the entryway, rocking from heel to heel, but he soon returns back upstairs, presumably to finish what he needed to for work.

_ Good _ . Max thought spitefully.  _ He should feel guilty, dumbass. _

Max takes a seat on the couch after Gwen, but grabs the remote hastily, attempting to prevent her from changing the channel. She shrugs, turning her attention to the documentary as the sounds of hurried steps and shuffling papers echo through the home.

David’s footfalls tap against tile, and while his voice is doing it’s best to be cheery, it still has a nervous edge to it. 

"Alright, I'm off!” he says. ”Have as much fun as you like without me!" He slips on a small jacket, then hesitates before opening the door. 

"Oh, and please keep the house... intact?" he asks.

Gwen waves him off, keeping her eyes glued to the TV. "Yeah, yeah, I can handle him. Go!"

David exhales. "Thank you so much, Gwen. Bye Max!"

Max doesn't respond, leaving David to leave the house with an anxious smile. Max hears the door shut, and flicks his eyes to the window to watch David run to his car.

But... he doesn't see him. Max raises an eyebrow at the disappearing act before the front door bursts open a second time, causing both of the couch's occupants to jump in surprise.

"Sugar cookies, I almost forgot!" David runs up behind the couch and tosses a brightly colored square of plastic onto Gwen's lap along with a paperclip. "That's for Max's phone, it's already activated.  _ ThankyousomuchGwen!" _

The front door slams, and Max watches David run to his car with mild confusion. Gwen looks the small card over briefly before taking advantage of a distracted Max and swiping the remote out of his hand. 

“Hey, bitch-!” Max begins to protest, but Gwen shoves the little card and the paperclip into his face.

“Shut up Max, and put this in your phone, the instructions are on the back.” She flips over to that trashy TV network that she’s obsessed with and occasionally glances at Max as he reads the card and pulls out his phone. 

“Shouldn’t you be doing this?” He asks, irritation in his tone. He pops out the little chip from it’s plastic backing and begins to follow the instructions to swap the sim card.

“It’s useful for you to know how to do, and it’s not like it’s hard.” She gives him a light, but somewhat dubious smile. ”Plus, you’re smart, and I’m watching you.” 

“You’re definitely watching the TV more than me.” Max says. Gwen ignores this and holds out her hand, allowing him to drop the phone’s previous chip into it. He eyes her apprehensively as he snaps his phone case back on, the quiet screaming of whatever poor sod was on the trashy show filling the room with additional background noise. 

Gwen looked perfectly comfortable sitting there on the couch, but Max’s mind was reeling. He had imagined this whole David thing to be so… isolated, shrouded in some sort of weird secrecy. He kind of thought he could go the rest of his life hiding his living situation away from the world. Someone else, even just Gwen having knowledge of it… bothered him, in a weird way.

He figured it had something to do with suddenly having so many people know what went on at his home, after so many years of hiding it. There had been vague, careful questions made by teachers and acquaintances occasionally, but they usually stopped once Max became uncooperative with them. David was the first one that broke him. The first one that figured it out.

He supposed Gwen was kinda in on it too, since she was there for the whole Parents' Day fiasco, but she didn’t know that it was enough for David to offer to take him in himself. How much did the guy even tell her, anyway? Due to Max's careful dodging, David didn’t really know that much  _ to _ tell, thankfully. Although, being at camp for weeks alone kind of told a lot.

After becoming bored with the shit on the television and tired of the awkward silence, Max decides to make some lighthearted conversation.

“Why the hell are  _ you _ here, anyways?” He asks. Yeah, wonderful. Lighthearted.

Gwen rolls her head over to Max and raises an eyebrow, but thankfully decides to  _ not _ point out the irony in that question.  “Because David asked me to, will pay me to, and I’m able to. I would usually be at school right now, but classes are optional.” She turns down the volume on the TV. “I can just catch up online, so whatever.”

“You’re  _ still _ in school? How do you even survive?” He asks. “Don’t all those useless degrees cost  _ money _ ? Like, a  _ lot _ of money?”

Gwen points the remote at him and sits up, slightly angry. “Hey you little shit, they aren’t-” She pauses, crossing her arms and sinking deeper into the couch, rephrasing her statement. “They aren’t  _ completely _ useless, and I don’t pay anything for them anyway. A hefty combination of federal aid, scholarships, and a small donation from my parents’ bank account solves that. Aside from school, I work the night shift part-time.” 

Max shoves his phone in his pocket after checking for mobile data, which happily works. “Ah, so mommy and daddy take care of it, nice.” 

Gwen rolls her eyes at the insult. “ _ Small _ donation, like I said, and they like it that I’m in school and do well, so it’s a win-win.” Another pause, and Gwen’s eyes flicker over to Max. “Plus, speaking of  _ mommy  _ and _ daddy _ -”

Shit, yeah, he knew he was digging his own grave when he mentioned her parents, and also when he asked the very question she’s about to ask.

“You wanna tell me why  _ you’re _ here?”

There it is. Max bit his lip, desperately just wanting to dodge the topic. He puts up his typical air of indifference. “If you wanna know, then ask  _ David.”  _ He says the name with as much vitriol as possible. “He tells you  _ everything.” _

Gwen scoffs, shaking her head. “Max, stop being a paranoid skeptic for once. David didn’t tell me anything, alright?” 

“Oh yeah? He told you enough to get you down here, didn’t he?” Max states, eyes firmly planted on the coffee table in front of him. He didn’t want to look at her, he didn’t want her pity.

“I told you, you little shit, he’s  _ paying me _ . He told me he had you, but I would have found  _ that _ out as soon as I got here. He refused to tell me anything else.” Her voice gains an annoyed tinge to it. “Believe me, I tried to pry, I tried to pry a  _ lot, _ but he wouldn’t say a damn word. Your secret’s safe with him, or whatever.”

She glances at Max out of the corner of her eye, and then sighs.

“I have my suspicions, though.”

Max tries to push himself further into the back of the couch, comforted that he was small enough for the cushions and blankets to almost actually swallow him. He was even tempted to pull one off and bury himself in it. 

In a very small but low voice, he says “Yeah, and you’d probably be fuckin’ right.”

Gwen exhales, shaking her head. “Parents’ day?” She asks.

“Parents’ day.” Max replies, with finality.

He buries himself in his hoodie instead.

For a little bit, nothing can be heard in the house except the steady breathing of its two occupants and the low volume of the commercial break on the large television. Max considers receding upstairs, but doesn’t really want to emerge from his spot on the couch during the awkward silence. At least when he was with David, the admission of what was going on at home was more… heated. Max got angry, loud, could spill everything in a rage. He also had the freedom to run off into the forest or into a cabin if he didn’t feel like he could deal with the situation. 

In the house, in this calm atmosphere, he felt trapped. He could get away, but he couldn’t get  _ away. _

“Welp, this place is boring as all hell.” Gwen exclaims, causing Max to flinch as he’s jerked out of his thoughts. She doesn’t seem to notice this, instead standing and stretching before vigorously ruffling Max’s hair and walking behind the couch towards the front door. “C’mon Satan, we’re going out.”

Max rips his hands out of his hoodie pocket and sits up to fix the mess his hair now was, barking out an angry “What? Where?” as he turns around to look at the co-counselor.

Gwen pulls her coat and a forest green scarf out from the closet. "Does it matter? Not like you have anything better to do, and David put me in charge. Besides, it's kinda nice out. A bit chilly, but the sun is warm." She tosses the scarf in Max's face and he holds it like he's never seen one in his life. Gwen pauses, looking him over. "C'mon, Max. Burning daylight."

Max scowls, stuffing the scarf into his pocket and muttering something about neither of the counselors ever  _ actually _ being in charge, but still follows Gwen out to her little purple two-door sedan anyway.

He gets in, and as they make their way down the long drive, Max can't help but stare at the little grey house longingly in the car's mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I maaaaay make a chapter consisting of Gwen and David's phone conversation, but I'll leave that as a mystery for now. ;)  
> If you really would like it, request it in the comments! It isn't written currently, but I can definitely move it up in my queue if it's desired.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Momgwen! I really enjoyed writing this one. Next chapter on Friday!

The entire drive, Max repeatedly asks where they're going, what they're doing, why they were even going out in the first place. 

But most of all, Max wanted to know  _ why _ Gwen wasn't telling him.

"Are you taking me out to murder me? Bury my tiny body in a shallow grave?" He asks, giving up on receiving the actual answer.

Gwen leans on her fist as she drives, elbow resting on the window's ledge. "I wish, but David would probably kill me and then himself if I did that." She deadpans.

Max squints at the woman, crossing his arms and continuing as if he hadn't heard her. "No, you're more privy to dumping it in a lake, aren't you? Less work for you."

"You know, if it weren't you, I'd say that's kinda gruesome for an 11-year-old to say." Gwen mentions. "But, you know, it's  _ you. _ "

Max shrugs, settling back into his seat and watching a run-down sign come into view. As the faded letters become more clear, the boy's mouth drops open.

"Are you taking me to a  _ zoo _ ?" Max asks, the sign for a  _ Foxfields Wildlife Park _ passing them by as they pull into a mostly empty lot. "I'm not fucking 6, Gwen, turn around." Max bangs on the window with his fist angrily. 

Gwen rolls her eyes. "No, you're 11. I used to go on field trips to the zoo up until high school, and I still enjoy them now." Gwen drives towards the front gates, securing a parking spot close to the entrance. "Plus, it's not a zoo, it's kind of like a sanctuary. The animals have these  _ huge  _ fields to live in, I think this place is like, four times as large as the one in the city."

Gwen gets out of the car and Max reluctantly follows, groaning and complaining as they walk up to the ticket booth. "I can't believe  _ you're _ taking me to a zoo-"

" _ Wildlife Park _ "

" _ -same thing _ . I'd expect this shit from David, but you? I didn't even know you liked this garbage." They get up to the ticket clerk, but Max doesn't lower his voice. Gwen doesn’t seem to care. "Isn't camp enough for you freaks?"

"This isn't anything like camp you little demon, and outdoor stuff is nice  _ occasionally. _ " The ticket clerk gives the exchange a concerned frown, but ignores their conversation and allows them through the park gates. Max catches her expression and throws a  _ mind-your-own-fucking-business  _ glare her way. Gwen continues. "It’s not some intense shit like  _ underwater basket weaving _ , so I’m down for it. Would it seriously kill you to enjoy yourself for once?”

Max shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket and rolls his phone around within it, knowing that if he took the device out Gwen would probably just take it from him. This sucks.

“I’m gonna throw myself into the gorilla pen.” he complains. 

So, as it turns out, this zoo, wildlife sanctuary, whatever, really was  _ huge _ . It took them almost two hours to go from one side to the other, Max whining all the while. The place didn’t really have the most exotic things, so no gorilla pits to jump into, but it had lots of deer-type animals that would walk right up to you and other stuff that was naturally around this area, like badgers and bears. At one point, Gwen tried to give Max a cup of animal feed to give to the things, and Max  _ heavily _ refused, keeping his hands glued in his pocket the entire time, content to not show any excitement or enthusiasm for what he considers a lackluster trip filled with petting grubby animals. Would he rather be sitting awkwardly in front of the TV with Gwen? No, but that doesn’t matter, it was the principle of it all.

Overall, he did his best to just stare at the ground or pick at the chipping paint on fence posts.

Gwen nudges Max on the shoulder, and he looks up from the informational signpost on possums to give her a blank stare. “Hey, kid, you hungry?” She asks, a light smile ghosting her features. 

She jerks her thumb towards a somewhat crowded food stand, probably the only one in the park with how many people were there. Colorful statues of various animals line the outside of the building, and some scavenger birds hung around the edges of the grounds, pecking at discarded french fries and crumbs. Children were pretty much everywhere, as expected of the main demographic of the park.

It looked kind of like a strange watering hole for kids, but Max  _ was  _ feeling somewhat hungry. He shrugs, walking off towards the building with Gwen following short behind.

They grab their meals, Gwen getting some sort of veggie wrap and Max getting a french fry basket, and snag a bench on the far edge of the restaurant. The two of them people-watch while they eat, Gwen attempting to make some sort of small-talk about the animals they’ve seen or some shit. Max elects to ignore her, instead focusing on eating his mediocre overpriced meal and staring at the other children running around and causing their brand of typical childlike mayhem. They climb on the animal statues and chase peacocks in a way that reminded him of Nikki back at camp. She would probably  _ love _ a trip like this, wouldn’t she? Too bad he wasn’t her. 

Gwen finishes her wrap before Max finishes his fries, and she waves a hand in Max’s face while he’s focused on staring at the other kids, trying to get his attention. 

“Hey, Max, you know you can go play with them, right? I know you weren’t really the ‘playing’ type of kid back at camp, but it might be fun, if you’d give it a shot.”

Max glances over at her and back to the kids, cocking his head a little bit to the side. “If you couldn’t tell, running around like a screeching animal isn’t really my thing. My money’s on the birds turning around and attacking them, anyway.”

Gwen shrugs. “Have it your way, I’m gonna head to the bathroom.” She starts to walk away, but doubles back, pointing a glare in his direction, “ _ Don’t _ leave the restaurant, got it? Stay here.”

Max tosses another fry in his mouth, throwing a half-assed salute towards Gwen. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He says.

Gwen squints at him, clearly not enjoying the sarcasm. “I’ll be quick.” she says, before she heads behind the building to the public washrooms.

Max grabs a handful of fries, hopping off of the picnic table they were sitting at once she was out of sight.

“So will I.” he says.

TTTTTTT

Gwen returns to a scene of chaos, feathers, children, and parents running around the place like crazy.

Max calmly sits at their table, finishing off the last of his fries and watching the scene with a smirk. He glances at Gwen and gives her the  _ biggest _ shit-eating grin as she stomps over. She looks at the mayhem, and then at Max, bringing a hand to her face and rubbing her eyes. 

“I don’t suppose  _ you _ had anything to do with the reason three children are screaming their fucking heads off while being attacked by peacocks?” She asks, picking up the empty trays with a tired glare.

Max looks back at the ruckus and shrugs, hopping off of the table and following Gwen to the trash. “To be honest, they were screaming before.”

Gwen ignores his comment, continuing to rant. “I should have known better than to leave you alone, even for two minutes.” She shakes her head. “It’s literally impossible for you to  _ not  _ be a little hellion when left to your own devices, isn’t it?” 

“Oh, come on, it’s just so  _ easy! _ ” Max protests. “They’re like sitting ducks! You saw how quick I did that, how could anyone _ not _ ?”

“Because most don’t live for other’s suffering.” She dumps the trays, not waiting for Max in the slightest. “I have absolutely  _ no _ idea how David can stand you like he does.”

Dang, that one stung a little bit. Max has to keep at an awkward half-jog to keep pace with the co-counselor, and he shakes off the hurt with a scowl. “It’s not like he  _ has _ to keep me around, you know. I’m not forcing him to babysit me or anything.”

“Really, there’s no blackmail involved? I’m surprised.” Gwen keeps her hands shoved in her own pockets, and Max glowers back up at her.

“Hey, I’m not  _ that _ fucking shitty!” They walk past a small gift shop beside the restaurant, and at this point Max is yelling, getting the attention of a few of the patrons. “He can drop me back off with my parents for all I care!”

Gwen sighs, and Max can tell that both of them are getting more irritated by the second. “Listen, I don’t know what the hell made you have to stay at David’s, but if it has to do with your shitty parents, maybe you should, I don’t know, be a little bit more  _ thankful _ for what he’s doing for you?”

“Why should  _ I  _ be fucking thankful?!” Max questions. “I’m not asking him to do it, Gwen. I told him to just leave me with them, but he wouldn’t listen!” He stops in his tracks, and Gwen only walks a few more paces before stopping and turning to look at the kid. Max pulls his hands out of his pocket to point at Gwen. “He had every chance to drop me off and just drive away, but he  _ didn’t. _ He fucking  _ chose this.”  _

Gwen also pulls her hands out of her pockets, gesturing wildly at nothing. “Max, do you seriously think it was a  _ choice _ with the guy?” She steps forward and lowers her voice, suddenly becoming wary of the prying eyes. “Do you know what David’s probably going through to make this work for you? You know how much he cares, do you think the guy has one bone in his fucking body that  _ doesn’t _ care?”

“Then he should  _ fucking _ grow one!” He yells, causing Gwen to recoil. He knew he was getting emotional, was losing his cool in a public place, but he  _ just didn’t care. _ He needed to let off some pent up emotions, and Gwen was a pretty safe outlet. “He can drop me off at CPS and be  _ done _ with me! I’ll just get put with some  _ other _ family that doesn’t give a shit either!”

Gwen moves in closer, getting right up into Max’s face while still trying to remain towering above him. “You absolutely  _ know _ he can’t do that, Max. He’s virtually incapable of being anything but a trusting, caring, sympathetic moron,  _ especially _ when it comes to  _ you! _ I don’t know why you’re so hell-bent on pushing the one person away that actually  _ does _ give a shit!” 

That last comment gives Max pause. “I- what? David’s just being his stupid, gullible self, as usual. It’s not because of-” 

“Yeah, satan, it  _ is _ because of you.” Gwen finally crouches down, getting at eye level with Max rather than standing above him. She still has a scowl on her face, but her voice quiets down. “I don’t know why, but the guy, out of  _ all  _ of the rest of the campers he’s ever had, loves  _ you _ the most.” She shakes her head and prods a finger into Max’s chest, punctuating her remarks. “You, the cynical, self-centered, self-proclaimed asshole who  _ only  _ cares about himself. David, for some ungodly reason, sees something in you that not even your  _ parents _ can see, and he loves it enough to take you in, at his own expense, to keep you  _ safe _ and  _ happy.” _

Max looks into Gwen’s eyes, and there’s a strange softness behind them that sits unfamiliar on her face that makes him shrink a little under her gaze. She continues. “So, would it kill you to stop being an insufferable demon for about two fucking seconds, and actually start  _ caring _ for once?”

Max... didn’t really know what to say to her. He didn’t know how to respond, so he just stares at her silently, going over what she said in his head.

It irks him, but there’s a slight hope that she’s right. That he’s somehow David’s favorite, that someone actually  _ cares. _ It sits heavy in his chest, a weird feeling bubbling up that he can’t exactly pin. He was still half-convinced that Gwen was just spouting bullshit, but that little shred of hope that what she’s saying  _ was  _ true still has enough weight to bother him. 

He opens his mouth, then closes it, gaping like a stupid  _ fucking _ fish, before scowling and choosing to stare down at the concrete. He didn’t know what to say, but he knew he didn’t want to embarrass himself by being emotional or crying in front of  _ Gwen _ of all people. She’d never let him down for it.

Max hears Gwen sigh before standing, and then he’s promptly getting dragged somewhere by his hoodie. He allows it to happen, keeping his eyes glued to the back of Gwen’s boots as she stomps somewhere with apparent purpose. 

She halts at some booth, pulling out her wallet and talking to the clerk in sharp tones. Max hears a register open and close and a quick thanks is exchanged. Before he knows it, Gwen shoves a cup of whatever she’s purchased into Max’s chest, and he scrambles to catch it before it falls to the ground.

Max eyes the cup of carrots with confusion before he’s being yanked somewhere once again, this time by his wrist. He stumbles along with Gwen, muttering the occasional swear while desperately trying to maintain his balance and avoid faceplanting into the sidewalk. 

After Max finally gets his bearings, he angrily asks Gwen “Agh- What the fuck are you  _ doing?!” _ The hold on his wrist is tight and uncomfortable, and the action of being dragged along like this brings back some not-so-fond memories.

“We’re feeding some fucking llamas, that’s what we’re doing.”

Max takes note of the animal pens he’s being forcefully dragged over to, and he struggles against the counselor’s grip. “What? No! Fuck you, bitch!” He yells, but he’s not nearly as strong as the woman holding him, so his efforts remain fruitless.

Once getting to the pens, Gwen spins around and crouches down in front of Max, getting  _ right _ up in his face and speaking in low, honestly kind of threatening tones. “You're going to feed some fucking llamas, and some antelope, and a giraffe, and I'm going to get pictures so that David can hopefully manage to squeeze a  _ little  _ happiness out of his likely shithole of a day, do you fucking understand me? You don’t even have to  _ enjoy _ it, I just want the goddamn photos.” She jabs a finger in his face, and Max flinches back a little bit, but Gwen doesn’t seem to care. “Otherwise, I swear to  _ god  _ I will find your shitty little bear and dye it hot-fucking-pink."

At the mention of Mr. Honeynuts, Max’s brain snaps back to reality. “You  _ wouldn’t.” _

Gwen smiles her evil, devilish smile, nodding. “Oh, I would. I dug seven feet under to get to that damn bear, you think I won’t climb through a window or steal a key?” She gets even closer, her voice almost a whisper. “You have to sleep sometime, Satan.”

And with that glint in her eye, Max  _ really _ thought she would.

He stares into her eyes for a few moments, jumping back and forth to each one while hers stared straight into his soul. After a bit, he yanks his hand out of hers and holds the plastic cup he’s grasping just a little tighter.

“Fine.” He states, annoyed to be played at by his own game. “Let’s get this over with.”


	14. Chapter 14

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. While Max spent a lot of time complaining about embarrassing photos and gross animal slobber, he did, begrudgingly, enjoy himself more when he actually put the effort into it. The pens  _ were _ absolutely huge, but when they took the time to sit by a fencepost and wait with some vegetables, the animals would gladly walk right up to them for snacks and allow themselves to be pet, a few of them taking a particular liking to Max over any of the other, more grabby kids that hovered in the area.

So, it was kinda nice. 

“Alright kiddo, up we go.” Max, distracted while looking up at one of the  _ 15-foot-tall _ giraffes (he’d never seen one in-person before) is lifted up by Gwen and easily placed onto her shoulders. 

“Hey, fucking  _ ask  _ before you get all touchy like that, bitch!” Max yells, pounding a small fist into her head. Gwen ignores him, instead handing her phone off to a park attendant and asking for a picture.

“You’re fine, Max. Here, take this.” She hands up a cup of carrots while still keeping a good hold on Max’s legs, allowing him to take it without fear of losing balance. He looks up at the approaching giraffe, who was bending down and over the fence with interest. He tries to lean back, but Gwen’s hold on him is unrelenting.

“Um, we couldn’t- you know, go up to the  _ feeding balcony _ for this?” Max asks, hesitantly digging through his cup for one of the longer veggies.

“Nah, Davey’ll go nuts over these photos. Don’t worry, you’re tiny for a kid your age, you weigh like nothing, I ain't gonna drop you. Oh, oh! Do it, now!” Gwen takes a small step forward, essentially forcing Max’s hand and the snack directly in front of the giraffe’s face, who happily snakes his tongue out to eat.

“Aaagh! Oh my god, what the  _ fuck _ , it’s so long! And it’s purple!” Max pulls his hand back dramatically and leans back even further to get away from the thing. Gwen laughs, continuously edging closer until the giraffe gets the opportunity to happily eat straight from the plastic cup.

“Here, I don’t care, have it all! Jesus!” He holds the cup out at arm’s length, struggling to keep it still with the gigantic tongue rooting through it. He waits patiently for the animal to finish it’s meal before releasing his own breath and leaning on Gwen’s head, the cup falling to the ground with a gentle clatter.

Max groans. “ _ Please _ tell me we got the stupid photos.” He mumbles into Gwen’s hair. The counselor walks over to the park attendant and thanks her before scrolling through the device herself to double check.

“Mhm, got some good ones, too. Oh boy, David’s going to  _ freak _ when he sees these.” She waves off the attendant, who picks up the dropped cup and giggles at the odd pair.

Max resigns himself to staying on Gwen’s shoulders, not exactly  _ happy _ to be up here, but he’d like to let his feet rest after the long hours of walking throughout the day. “Yeah? Better take a picture of the ginger’s stupid face, too.” He says, folding his arms across Gwen’s head.

She slips the phone into her pocket, then grabs ahold of Max’s legs like a backpack, still locking him in place. “Mmm, pretty sure the guy’s not a ginger.” She checks the signs to leave the maze that is the wildlife park, heading off in the direction of the parking lots. “So, it’s about 3:30, David’s probably already home from work by now. You wanna stop somewhere to get a coffee or something?”

Max considers the offer, lazily rolling his head to the side to look up at the overcast sky. “Nah, David’s got some at home-” Max scrunches up his face. “at his place." He corrects, pausing for a brief moment. He taps Gwen on the head with the flat of his palm. "Alright, down, now." He says.

Gwen hums, crouching down to allow Max to hop off of her shoulders. He stuffs his cold fingers into his hoodie pocket and wrings his hands, noticing with a shred of disgust that they felt weird from touching animals all day. Dirty. Gross. 

"Hey, you got any like, hand sanitizer or anything? My hands feel nasty." He holds them out in front of his body, almost as if the things weren't attached to him. Gwen laughs. 

“Got some Clorox wipes in the car, you can use those. Hey, does David really have coffee? He hasn’t had the stuff for ages, as far as I know.” Gwen stuffs her hands in her own pockets, warding off the cold. Max looks up at her, and she suddenly has a look of surprise and a  _ wicked _ grin stretching across her face, creeping him out. He knew that look, he wore it all the time. 

“Hey, what the hell are you-” His voice is muffled as a green scarf is wrapped one, two, three times around his neck and face. Immediately pissed off, he reaches up to try to rip it off, but his wrists are grabbed by a smirking Gwen.

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t want to get David’s scarf all dirty, do you?” She taunts.

“ _ I dhn't fhcking carr!” _ He tries to yell, still struggling against her grip. Oh, he was  _ so _ going to get payback for this  _ entire _ fucking day. She can’t hold Mr. Honeynuts against him forever.

_ I bet David has a safe somewhere- _

“Hey- leave it. I don’t want David freaking out on me because I gave you a cold. Stick your hands in your pocket and  _ leave _ the scarf on, at least until we get back to the car, alright? It’s freezing out.” She releases his hands, and he fumes at her, but leaves the damn thing on. “All you’ve got is that old hoodie, and I’ve been seeing you shivering all day today.”

Max lifts his chin to expose his mouth without pulling on the scarf. "You can't get colds from being cold, that's a myth, idiot."

Gwen rolls her eyes but still wears a soft smile. Max shoves his hands into his pocket and tucks his face into the scarf to shield himself from the increasing wind. Now that the day has crawled by and cloud cover has quietly rolled in, the absence of the sun did leave a chill in his bones. 

They walk past the gift shops and through the way they came in, neither Max nor Gwen interested in paying for low-quality, overpriced stuffed animals or toys. Max is thankful that Gwen managed to get a close parking spot, because by the time they got in view of the car he  _ was _ getting rather cold, and his feet were getting pretty sore, not that you'd ever catch him mentioning it.

They hop in, Gwen reaching in the back seat to grab a tube of Clorox wipes and tossing it in Max's lap, who immediately rips the thing open and cleans his hands. A shred of irritation slips out of him as he does, and he buckles before wiggling into the warming seat and pulling out his phone from his pocket.

He raises his eyebrows when he notices the few messages he's received through the day. Of course they're from David, but he scrolls through them as the sign for the wildlife park passes overhead.

_ David, 10:26 am: Heya kiddo! I hope the phone works! Have a great day with Gwen! _

_ David, 12:35 pm: You guys are probably having so much fun right now, Gwen told me she's taking you to Foxfields! I used to volunteer there as a kid, I know you'll love it. Stay safe. _

_ David, 3:19 pm: I'll check if the phone works when you get home, are you still at the park? It's getting kind of chilly. _

_ David, 3:33 pm: I'll text Gwen, so don't worry about the phone. See you at home! _

Max rolls his eyes, he can feel David's trademark enthusiasm and excitement just oozing through the messages, and those were just texts. He sends off a quick message.

_ Max, 3:41 pm: Phone works fine, had it on silent. we’re leaving now. _

Sending off that one, he considers messaging David about the photos, but leaves it. He didn't want to make them seem like a big deal. After all, he was  _ blackmailed  _ into them in the first place. He sighs, looking out the window and watching the farm fields and nature scenery fly by. 

He didn't notice the sad glances Gwen was giving him as he fell asleep during the ride.

TTTTTTT

_ "...have fun?" _

_ "...seemed to enjoy… tired him out… as soon as he got in the car." _

_ "...glad you guys had a great day. Did you manage to eat, or… dinner?" _

**_God I'd wish they'd shut the fuck up._ **

_ "You know… kinda cute… not being a little shit." _

_ "Gwen!" _

Max opens his eyes, squinting at the two through the car window. "God shut the  _ fuck  _ up David, Jesus."

"Language!"

Max rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand before unbuckling and pushing open the car door. Gwen and David, who were apparently hanging around on the driver's side of the car and  _ literally watching him sleep, _ close the door and follow him as he walks up the stairs and onto the porch. 

"Oh shit, David" Gwen pulls out her phone. "I managed to get him to  _ actually  _ chill enough to get photos. I'll send them to you, here."

An audible gasp comes from David. "You did?! Oh, I knew he would love it!"

Max spins around while walking into the house, pointing at Gwen furiously. "You blackmailed me you bitch! I  _ will _ be tearing you apart for that, you hear me?!"

His yelling goes unnoticed by the two adults, who quietly watch with twinkling eyes as Gwen navigates through her phone. When getting to the photos, David's mouth drops open, and he swiftly liberates her of her phone.

" _ Ohmygosh,  _ Max!" David balks, already tearing up. "You had  _ so much fun _ , these are adorable!"

Max stomps his foot and throws his arms in the air. "Don't you  _ dare  _ call me adorable! I'll sell your social security number to the Russian mafia!"

David tears his eyes away from the phone and looks down at Max with a gigantic smile. He lowers his voice to a normal level.

"I'm happy you could enjoy yourself, Max. You deserve it."

Max exhales and studies David's face for a few seconds, not quite grasping the expression he's making. It was happy, definitely, yet there were tears still lining the edges of his eyes. There was a hint of exhaustion, the color from his face a tad off likely due to the accumulated stress, but there was also something else. Relief? Pride? Hope?

Max didn't understand it, especially because of the circumstances from which it came. He was just looking at photos of him feeding grubby animals, why did he care so much?

He looks down at the ground and kicks his shoes off, not wanting to think about it too deeply. It was probably David just being his stupid over-emotional self. He'd seen that look before, whenever Max did something David was "proud" of. 

"Don't get used to it." He mumbles. He stuffs his hands into his pocket to withdraw his phone and wanders into the living room. He chooses to avoid listening to the ongoing conversation behind him, content with sinking into the depths of Youtube for an hour or so.

He pushes himself into the corner of the couch, letting the blankets and pillows piled onto the back of it swallow him once again. He notices that his head is very comfortably tucked into his hoodie, only to draw his brows together at the unfamiliar softness of the fabric against his skin.

Max's eyes twitch at the realization that he's still wearing David's scarf. He quickly unravels himself from the thing and throws it over the back of the couch, quickly settling into his seat without it.

TTTTTTT

The counselors watch Max play on his phone from the entryway, David finally relinquishing Gwen's device after tagging every picture he'd want to be sent to him (which was basically all of them).

"Would you like some coffee?" David asks, already turning towards the kitchen. "I just bought some for the first time in my life - with the kiddo's help."

Gwen looks as if she's considering the offer, rocking her head back and forth. "Hmm, sounds good to me, I don't have much to do for the rest of the day." She hangs up her coat and follows him into the kitchen, eyeing the ingredients for dinner strewn across the counter.

"Did you have fun too, Gwen?" David asks, reaching into the cupboard for the grounds.

"Oh yeah, it was surprisingly relaxing." Gwen sits at the kitchen table, leaning her head on her hand. "He had a meltdown at one point, but it got smoothed over pretty quickly."

"Oh?" He pulls out two mugs, then tilts his head at Gwen curiously. "What was it about?"

David watches Gwen hesitate for a second, avoiding eye contact. She raps her nails on the table a few times, and David just continues making the coffee, letting her formulate her thoughts. 

"He… kind of got a bunch of kids attacked by birds.”

A sigh passes David’s lips, but the corners of his mouth turn up against his will. “That sounds like Max all right. You handled it though, and still ended up having a good time!” He flips on the machine and puts a kettle of water on the stove for himself. “I’ll send you the money tonight as soon as I get on the computer. Thank you  _ so _ much for taking him, Gwen.”

Gwen leans back in her seat and waves him off. “Ah, it wasn’t much trouble, I ended up having fun too. I haven’t been to that place since, jeez, before Campbell, I guess.” 

David leans against the counter while they wait for their drinks. "Why’d you choose the park? It  _ is _ pretty amazing, but it doesn't seem like Max's… style, exactly."

Gwen crosses her arms and lifts her feet up onto the chair beside her, looking very 'Gwen' at that moment. "Well, I dunno, usually when I went to the zoo as a kid everyone liked it. Even the troublemakers had something they enjoyed." Gwen looks over her shoulder to the room where Max was sitting and lowers her voice a bit. "I think he just needs to realize that it's... okay to be happy, you know? He seems so hell-bent on thinking the worst of the world that he isn’t willing to even try to enjoy himself." 

David doesn't really have a response to that, so he just remains in his relaxed position against the counter and chews his lip, glancing off towards the other room the same way Gwen did. She was right about Max, of course, but it wasn't hard to deduce why. 

From what David could tell, every second spent at home was a second spent in fear and apprehension for Max. At his age, the only people you really know are your parents, and if they were half as bad as David thinks they are, it's no surprise his cynical outlook developed so early when  _ they’re _ the only example of what people could be. There were teachers and classmates, yeah, but David doubts that any teacher ever put in the time to  _ actually _ get to know or understand Max, and even if they did manage to break the surface, Max would probably just push them away for one reason or another. He had experienced it himself, seen it with Nikki and Neil before, but…

Well, he can't help but get the feeling that those two were the first people that Max ever willingly let into his life.

And David could tell that even with what was going on, with Max living under his roof, he probably wasn’t even close to that level yet.

David furrows his brow and looks up at Gwen, who was clearly studying his expression. The kettle and coffee pot bubble quietly in the background, and even through the closed windows he could hear birds chirping outside, preparing for the upcoming winter. Max was in the other room comfortably playing on his phone, sitting in the one spot in the house he’s seemed to have made his own. 

Overall, it was still peaceful.

And Max seemed at least somewhat happier than he was at home, and much safer than he was at camp. 

David smiles, but it's a sad one. He shifts a little bit, crossing his arms. "Hopefully," he begins, "I can do… something to show him that the world is a little better than it's treated him so far.”

Gwen looks at David, her eyes meeting his and then scouring the rest of his face. She glances away after a time, looking out the large glass window.

And then, she smiles.

"If anyone can do it, it's you, Davey."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is a bonus chapter!


	15. Bonus (Gwen and David)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, just reuploaded this chapter to bump the fic up for your convenience. :)  
> A bonus chapter that takes place directly after chapter 11, the phone call between Gwen and David. I didn't originally intend to release this, but here goes!

"David. Why, the  _ fuck _ , are you calling me in the middle of the night?"

David smiles, swallowing nervously and speaking quietly. "Oh, uh- hi Gwen! Listen, I have a favor to ask of you, I'm in a little bit of a sticky situation..."

"I swear to  _ god _ . It's fucking midnight. You know I go to school  _ and _ work, I don't have time for any of your 'emergencies' right now. I'm not coming over to kill a spider, or some equally pathetic bullshit, okay?"

"No, no, it's not anything like that-" David stutters. He knew how Gwen got when he woke her up.

"I'm hanging up now."

"Wait!" David grimaces at his volume, glancing at the bedroom door. Gosh, this is a real emergency,  _ please _ don’t hang up. "I'll pay you!" He whispers.

Another, longer pause.

"I'm listening." Gwen replies. 

David exhales a long breath, “Oh, thank you so much.” he sighs. “I, um… don’t know how to tell you this, but first I’m going to ask you to  _ not  _ freak out-”

_ “David.” _ She draws out the name. “What’s going on? You sound nervous. Like an  _ ‘I murdered someone’ _ nervous.”

“No! No no no, not at all.” David sits down on his bed once he realizes he’s pacing. “Gwen, I don’t get how you always assume such things of me-”

“David, focus. The problem.”

David takes a deep breath, stopping his rant. “So...” He pauses. “I  _ kind of _ have Max.”

Silence.

“You  _ what?”  _

David grins, happily surprised at how calm she is.

“You’re talking about  _ our _ Max.” She continues. “Max from Camp Campbell Max. The Max that tried to escape an ungodly amount of times, made our lives a living hell, basically helped us commit fraud, and engaged in guerilla warfare against the rival camps?” Her voice goes up an octave.  _ “That  _ Max?”

David cringes a bit before responding. “Well... while I wouldn’t agree with that description, yes, I do believe we’re talking about the same person.”

Silence, again.

“David, what the  _ fuck?”  _ Gwen questions.

“It- it just kind of happened!” He defends.

He hears Gwen groan through the line. “So he’s with you. At your house. Right now?”

David plays with a stray thread on his comforter anxiously. “Yeah, he is - and he’s fine, so don’t worry about that!” He adds on. “I’ve had him for… a few days now.”

“Any chance you’re going to tell me  _ why _ he’s there and not, you know, at home? With his  _ parents?” _

David stands, becoming restless sitting on the bed. He puts a hand on his hip while doing so. “I can very honestly tell you that I did  _ not _ kidnap him, or anything of the sort.” He pauses. “And as much as I would like to tell you why, I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to give you any details. He probably would rather tell you himself.” 

Gwen sighs, her fatigue clearly growing as the conversation carries on. “David, you know that this is a  _ terrible _ idea, don’t you?”

“What?” David asks, taken aback by the comment. “Why? Max, he-” he flinches, almost giving away too much. “I can’t tell you why, but this was the only option.” 

“Was it  _ really  _ the only option? I know you’re attached to him, and I can probably make some decent assumptions of why he’s there without you even telling me, but David, you’re  _ 25  _ and  _ single. _ I know you’re awesome with kids and all, but there’s a difference between being a counselor or a teacher and being a parent… you know that, right?”

Another sigh escapes David. “Of course I know that Gwen, it’s all I’ve been thinking about.” It’s what’s been keeping him up these past few days, but he won’t tell her that. “But… but I couldn’t leave him, you know. Can you trust me on that?”

He hears Gwen shift, getting up or lying down. “I- of course I do David, I’m just… I’m worried. For both of you. I know you said he was fine, but he has a pretty reliable trend of being able to pull the wool over your eyes. I mean,” she laughs, “This is  _ Max _ we’re talking about. He’s one hell of a handful.”

David’s lips press together. “I know.” he says, “but I also know that I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

He looks through his open bedroom door out into the hallway, towards where Max was currently, hopefully, sleeping. “I’ll do… whatever it takes.” A pause, and David sits back on the edge of the bed. “You know I will.”

“You sound tired, Davey.”

A soft laugh and a smile. “I am.” He says with a shrug. “But that doesn’t matter right now.”

“It does. If you’re going to help him, you need to keep yourself alright, too. Be a good example.”

David thinks about that for a moment. She was right, of course. It just all seemed to pale in comparison to what Max had to have been going through. He was never one to really prioritize himself, but his well-being probably had a direct impact on Max now. The kiddo was perceptive beyond belief, he would notice if anything funky was up. 

"Yeah, Gwen. Yeah. You're right, as always." A chuckle. "You're pretty amazing, you know that? I don't know how you do it."

There's a slight hesitation before her response. "Well, I guess I learned from the best."

"Campbell?"

Gwen snorts, and then starts laughing. David covers his mouth to try to suppress his own snickers, wary of the sleeping boy down the hall.

It takes them some time, but they manage to calm down. "God, you're such an idiot." Gwen says.

"Well, it made you laugh!" David points out. "So it can't be all bad."

David hears Gwen yawn (which infects him with one, even though the phone), and then she gasps. "Shit, David, don't you have work tomorrow? It's almost 12:30."

David checks the time, noting that she was indeed correct. "Oh golly," he exclaims, "I almost forgot, I called because I needed a favor."

He runs a hand through his hair anxiously, he hated asking Gwen for help, she was always so busy. "I'm sorry to ask you this, but would you be able to stay with Max for a bit while I go to work? I'll pay you well for your time, of course."

"After all this? I don't think I could say no even if I wanted to. Yeah, I can take care of the little shit. You don't have to pay me if you don't want to, either."

David shakes his head, even though Gwen can't see it. "Nope, no. Standing my ground here, you  _ are  _ taking the money. I'll wire it directly into your account like usual."

"David…"

"Gwen…"

It's silent for a few seconds, a stalemate of determination.

"Ugh, fine." She gives in. David smiles, she never had a chance. "But only because I want to go to sleep rather than fight you on this. What time do you need me there?"

David thinks, his cluttered schedule running through his mind. "I think… 9:30 would be good. I'd have to leave shortly after, but I trust you can take the reins for the day."

Gwen gives a hum of understanding. "Alright, I'll be there. On time, too, I swear!"

David laughs, remembering Gwen's habit of being late to pretty much everything. Well, there was a reason he gave her an extra 15 minutes.

"Thanks Gwen, I really appreciate it. I think Max'll be happy to see you!"

"Yeah, you tell yourself that. I'm prepared to be heckled and sworn at by an 11-year-old again. Jesus, I can’t even imagine living with him."

He smiles fondly. “Oh, it’s not that bad… so far. I do still have to scold him for his language.”

“Do you think that’s going to  _ change?” _

“Honestly?” He thinks for a moment. “Nope! But I’ll do my best!”

“Well, at least you’re still yourself.” She sighs. “Alright, we should both sleep then. I’ll see you tomorrow, Davey.”

David sighs himself, it was getting legitimately difficult to keep his eyes open. Hopefully he’ll be able to get some uninterrupted sleep tonight. “Yeah, tomorrow. Night, Gwen.”

“Night.”

_ Click _


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I have to say that I'm not particularly proud of this week's chapters, but Chapter 17 is where it's going to REALLY pick up. I'm almost excited enough to post both of these chapters just to get you guys there.
> 
> Almost.

Once the smell of coffee made its way through the house, Max inevitably emerged from his seclusion in the living room to grab a cup, only hovering around the kitchen for a few minutes before leaving once he got bored of the counselors’ discussions and returning to his place on the couch.

It wasn't long after that when Gwen and David made their way to the entryway once again, and Max watched her go with mild interest.

"Are you sure you're not interested in staying for dinner?" David asks. "I can finish it in a half an hour."

Gwen retrieves her coat from the closet. "Nah." She replies. "I got stuff waiting at home, and I really should catch up on what I missed for class today. I can listen to the audio lecture while eating, then crash early for classes tomorrow."

David smiles, tilting his head. "Well, we'll have to have you over sometime again. Friday?”

She shrugs her coat on. “I don’t think I have anything going on Friday, but you know I can't make any promises.”

“Well, alright. I’ll text you then! Have a safe drive home, Gwen.” 

"Course David. Hey! Max!"

Max groans dramatically.  _ "What?" _ He asks.

She points at him and squints, but there’s a smirk on her face. "Be nice to David, or I'll kick your ass, you hear me?"

"Gwen!" David scolds.

Max smiles just the tiniest amount and leans over the back of the couch. "I'd like to see you try."

Gwen huffs a laugh. "Yeah, whatever. I'll see you two later. Don’t kill each other while I’m gone." She opens the front door and gives a wave, and David sees her out. 

"We won’t, good luck in your studies!" He calls.

Max chimes in. "Good riddance.”

"Max!"

"David!" He mocks.

David sighs, waves, then closes the door, but still smiles. "I'm glad you had fun today, Max."

Max huffs, but doesn't directly deny it. "Whatever. Do we have any more coffee, or did Gwen drink it all?" 

David wanders over to sit on the arm of the couch and checks his watch. "I'm gonna have to say no on the coffee, kiddo.” He says. “It's almost 6, and I want you to try to get to bed early."

Max sits up, closing the video on his phone and scrunching his face at David. "What? Why? It’s not like I have anything to do tomorrow."

David beams. "I was  _ going _ to wait to tell you, but, heck, I’ll just tell you now. I got permission for you to shadow me!” he gushes. “That, and your paperwork's all finished, so now we just have to wait until your application is accepted, which I've been guaranteed it will be."

Max rolls his head onto the back of the couch, looking up at the ceiling. "David, you  _ know  _ I can just stay here all day, I'm not going to burn the house down by watching TV, and I can make myself a damn sandwich."

David shakes his head, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. "No can do, buddy. It's not legal, and I don't think I'd be able to focus all day with you here alone." David sands up and ruffles Max's hair. "Plus, this way you'll at least be able to get some experience with the school before you start your first day! You can make some friends and get back into the swing of things."

_ "Fucking-" _ Max swats away David's hand. "Fine. I still don't need to go to bed early or whatever."

"Hmm…" David touches his chin as he thinks, then gives Max a wide grin. "Still gonna say no to the coffee."

Max rolls his eyes. "Let me know when dinner's ready."

TTTTTTT

During dinner, David explains the plans for school and Max complains the entire way, mostly on the principle. He realized that he was going to be shackled to the guy for probably the rest of the week, the only reprieve being between classes and lunch. He was even spending his study hall or free period (or whatever this place decides to call it) in his classroom with him. As far as Max was concerned, it was a waste of time.

But, of course, David insisted, telling him that it'll be worth it to catch up on some studies. He explained a few other menial things too, raved about his classroom, talked about students Max might like, but he tuned him out for the majority of it, content with picking at his food until his plate was mostly clean.

The next morning went by in a bit of a surreal blur. Max hadn't been to school for a solid 5 months, so nobody could really blame him for being a  _ little _ nervous.

David woke him up a little after 7:00 in the morning, pestering him to dress warm and beckoning him down for breakfast. They ate, he took a shower, dressed in his standard hoodie and jeans, and allowed David to fuss over him and usher him everywhere without much effort on his part. It was kind of entertaining watching the guy rush to get everything together.

Max stands by the door while David pulls out a light jacket, the man rattling off a list of things for the day before frantically checking his pockets. As far as Max knew, they weren't running late, but David will be David. 

"Hey, David." Max asks, noticing something. "I know I haven't been to school in a while, but aren't I supposed to have, you know, a backpack or something?"

David stops to shrug on his coat and grab his laptop, and Jesus Christ, of  _ course _ the idiot wore sweater vests. "Sorry kiddo, this all happened so fast that I didn't get a chance to bring you shopping." David runs his hand through his hair, flattening it only for a few seconds before it pops up into it's typical cowlick. "Plus, I have plenty of school supplies in my room already, you'll be fine for the first week. As for a backpack, we can bring yours tomorrow, if you want. I completely forgot about it!" 

David seems to do one more once-over on the house before looking down at Max and beaming a huge smile. "You ready to go, Max?"

Max opens his mouth to say something snarky, but pauses, instead turning to leave the house.

"Yeah, I'm good David. Let's go already."

TTTTTTT

"So my room is A112 in the science wing. I teach all grades, but each class only has one grade level within it- well, except you, of course."

"Of course."

The duo walks through the front doors of the school, and Max is happy to find out that teachers arrive long before the students, so there was nobody to witness his paired arrival with David.

"Oh, Max!" David's eyes gleam as they walk through the barren hallways. "You could be my lab assistant today! In 2nd period I'm-"

"Holy shit- David,  _ hard _ pass." Max holds up a hand and takes a wide step away from David. "I really don't need my first impression at this shitty school to be specifically  _ your _ teacher's pet."

David pouts a bit, but it's playful. "I'll have you know that the students here are quite fond of me, if that's what you're concerned about." He smiles as he unlocks one of the classrooms, a black plaque beside it reading the room number as well as David's last name. "I make sure almost every class has a fun activity, just like camp! I'm sure that there has to be something in my classes you'll find interesting enough."

Max rolls his eyes, following David into the large room. "Yeah David, sure." Max eyes the  _ 'Greenwood' _ nameplate as he passes it. "Also, there's no way I'm calling you by your lame-ass last name."

"Max…" a pause. He glances down at the kid and they exchange a knowing look, Max’s stoic face faltering for only a second. David's smile is small, sad, but he nods anyways.

"That's… fine, Max."

Max shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket and wanders around the space, weaving between the slate lab tables scattered in the back of the room. "Why do they even call you by your last name anyways?” He continues “You  _ asked _ us to call you David at camp."

David sets his stuff at the front table, gradually preparing things for his first lecture. "Honestly, if it was my choice I'd just have them call me David, but the other teachers would rather I not." He shrugs. "It just takes a little adjusting to at the beginning of the year, so I don't mind!"

Max lets David finish whatever he needs to do for the day as he familiarizes himself with the room by moving in a large circle. It's a typical science lab, with sinks and bunsen burners installed into each lab table. It has a grouping of desks at the front of the room for lectures, tests, and whatever, all facing one bigger lab table that was probably David’s for demos and stuff. There's a projector on the ceiling facing a large whiteboard, which David was currently writing the hour’s agenda on. On the right side of the room, opposite of the front door, was another door that leads to what seems like (when he looks through the small window) a supply closet full of various lab tools and kits. Microscopes, safety goggles, lab coats, along with neat stacks of books and boxes. 

In the front of the room, right beside David, is a few aquariums filled with various small animals. A pair of mice, a tarantula, a fish tank, and a small snake sit on shelves against the wall, and Max stands there watching them for a short time. 

“Max,” David says, “you can sit wherever you like, and I can introduce you at the beginning of each class as a new transfer?” His voice turns up at the end, phrasing it as a question. He leans forward on his lab table, turning his head towards the hallway. A few students have begun to trickle through the halls with their backpacks, the early birds who probably get dropped off by working parents rummaging through their lockers and grabbing their books.

Max pulls out his phone and takes the desk in the back corner of the room, furthest from the hallway. He pulls out his phone and slouches in his seat. “I don’t care David, just no details- oh, and no shitty ice breakers, either! I swear to god I will  _ end _ you if you make me stand up there!”

David looks to the notebook he has sitting in front of him and closes it, pushing it to the side in a way he probably thought was discreet. He gives Max a wide, nervous smile and laugh. “Of course not, kiddo!"

Max shakes his head and rolls his eyes, refocusing on his phone and listening to the growing murmur of students in the hallway. Students file into the room one-by-one, the first few a bit confused by the unfamiliar face, but ultimately leave Max be and take their own seats. 

A few kids head up and talk to David before class starts, and he treats them just about the same as the kids at camp. Really, it feels like the room is the only thing that's changed. The man running the show? Carbon copy.

Well, because he  _ was.  _ He was still stupid, enthusiastic, gullible David.

Max didn't know what he expected, to be honest. Something different, for some reason.

The bell sounds for the beginning of first period, and David is quick to grab the attention of the chattering students. Max puts away the phone to curiously observe David in this strange new environment. 

The counselor stands at the front of the class with his hands on his hips and a giant smile on his face. "Gooood morning everyone!" He announces. "I'll be going around to check everyone's homework in a second, but first, I'd like to introduce a new student to the school!" David gestures at Max in the corner, who slouches in his seat and wears a careless expression. "This is Max, and he recently transferred here. He's not quite enrolled yet, so he'll be shadowing me for a few days while that gets taken care of, then he'll be in classes with you! I'm sure you'll all give him a warm welcome!"

The students all stare at Max during David's lecture, and he decides that the best course of action is to remain completely neutral and uncaring, simply sweeping his eyes across the many curious faces peppering the room.

Soon enough, their interest dims, and their attention returns to the front of the room. Max can almost see the memory of himself fading from their minds like rising smoke.

David starts with the lecture, not wasting any time. The familiarity of school slowly sinks back into Max's bones, even with David running the show. The concepts he teaches aren't incredibly difficult, most of them things he recognizes from old science and biology classes, if not a tad more complex.

The students are generally undisruptive, the ones that aren't listening discreetly doodling or playing on their phones. There was a kid not too far from Max occasionally snapping crayons into pieces and putting them in a little box, but he stopped without protest when David asked him to put it away. 

For some reason, Max had expected these kids to be at least as unruly as the ones at camp, but they were pretty tame. He can't help but be a little disappointed at that. This room was a potential  _ goldmine _ for ways to mess with David, with all of the chemicals and materials readily available.

Second period comes, and despite the addition of a lab activity (which had Max hovering around the room while David explained what they were doing) it didn't feel much different. Max was exempt from the attached lab sheet, but did end up getting a homework assignment along with a textbook at David's insistence.

Once the bell marking the end for second hour rings, David grabs his water bottle, giving Max a little wave and a "Be right back, Max!" before trotting out of the room. A few students dodge him at the door, but file in after the counselor leaves. Max stands, wanting to avoid the awkwardness of sitting in a quiet room with a bunch of strangers, and walks into the hallway, giving himself a few minutes to explore the wing.

The school didn't seem particularly large, but pretty high-budget. Almost every locker was decorated with various fliers and congratulatory paper-art for the students involved with their many extracurriculars. Theatre, debate, art, sports, psychology, pretty much any interest you can imagine had some sort of propaganda posted on walls and lockers throughout the school. The hallways were clean, and a number of students could be found casually conversing with a stray teacher or security officer caught between classes.

It was pretty much a smaller version of his old school. Clean, safe, the teachers gave a shit, and their test scores were probably through the roof. Of course, it's not very ethnically diverse, looking through the sea of students, but it was still a school most parents would  _ kill _ to get their kids into.

Max could easily believe that David's behavior was directly tied to being raised in a sheltered place like this. 

(He cringes when he realizes the irony of that statement, Max also being raised in this type of place.)

He makes a loop around the small science wing before coming back. It only consisted of 4 classrooms and the library (which he also investigated), but Max took his time and arrived right as the one-minute bell rang, David trailing in shortly after him while chatting with two other students.

Upon walking into the classroom, Max raises an eyebrow at a large, crude drawing on the whiteboard. He stops, glancing up at David and raising his hands in innocence.

David pauses next to Max and follows the boy's gaze, frowning at the drawing. "Oh dear." He sighs.

"Swear to god it wasn't me, David." Max states, shoving his hands into his pocket shortly after.

He runs a hand through his hair. "No worries Max, I'm aware." David hurriedly walks past the boy and up to the whiteboard.

Max skirts along the back of the room to get to his seat (which he reserved with his homework and textbook from last period), watching David try and fail to erase the giant dick from the board, probably drawn in permanent marker. The boy scans the room, and finds three possible culprits snickering in the back row, not too far away from where he sits.

_ Childish.  _ Max thinks, slipping into his seat.  _ That kinda shit isn't even funny. _ He watches David sigh and open a locked chemicals box, pulling out a bottle of something and spraying it on the whiteboard. The marks lift off rather quickly, but even Max winces at the harsh chemical odor wafting over to his seat.

David finishes cleaning off the whiteboard shortly after the bell signals the start of class. He smiles at the crisp white surface, spinning around to face the class. 

"Joel!" He exclaims. "If you could see me after class, that would be wonderful, thank you!" 

_ "What?!"  _ A boy yells, one of the three that was snickering in the back row. He was a blond with neat, short hair, pale skin, and had a light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He was surprisingly small for someone with such a big fucking mouth, but still probably an inch or so taller than Max. He sits on the edge of his desk, facing his two other friends. "You don't have any proof, Greenwood! You can't give me detention!" He protests.

David shakes his head. "I may not be able to give you detention, but I  _ am _ allowed to keep you after class for a few moments." He locks the bottle of whatever chemical he used to clean the whiteboard with back in it's cabinet. "Now please sit properly so I can make an announcement, or I  _ will _ have the authority to give you detention."

Joel groans, sliding off of the desk and dropping down in his seat, causing the chair to screech loudly against the floor. A few students complain, but Joel just turns to his friends while ignoring them.

_ "Bitch doesn't even have authority over his fuckin' hair." _ He murmurs with a grin. His friends chuckle, and Max glares venomously at the trio. He wasn't sure if it was the way the kid looked, his voice, or the immaturity, but Max was pretty pissed at their attitude. God, they could have done something at least  _ somewhat  _ interesting. Wasted fucking potential.

The majority of 3rd hour is work time for some sort of project, so David was walking around the room and answering questions. Max decided to bide his time by working on the assignment that was given to him last hour, which was incredibly easy since the answers were thoroughly outlined in the textbook. This, however, only ate up about 10 minutes of his time.

He pulls out his phone, not really focusing on it. He instead looks about the room again, paying attention to the details of it. This class really  _ was  _ great for potential pranks and mischief, and David's general irritating demeanor just asks for it, honestly. He peruses his options, intent on proving that there's much more creative ways to fuck with David than just scribbling some shitty sharpie on the board.

While most of the harsh chemicals were locked away, (albeit in a  _ very  _ pickable cabinet) Max was sure he could easily make a potent stink bomb from what was available. It would take a quick Google search and maybe a few latex gloves, but still quick and easy. If it was bad enough, it might even get the school closed for a day or two if it got in the ventilation system. Effective.

_ And cliche. _ He thought. He could do better. 

Perhaps he could make some Rube-Goldbergian-type contraption to cause a giant chemical mess. Something annoying to clean up, maybe a foam trap set to trigger when David opens a cabinet or supply closet. Inconvenient and amusing. Would probably eat up class time to clean up, too. 

Or- he looks back at the troublemakers. Maybe he could set up a  _ friendly _ wager for who can annoy David the most for a week, bonus points if they could piss him off- not that it's possible. Max could probably rig it to win, too, if he wanted to make some easy cash. These kids might know David, but they don't spend three months basically  _ living  _ with the dude.

Well, or  _ actually  _ living with him.

Max leans back in his seat, yawning and slipping his phone into his pocket. Class was basically over, most students finished their worksheets a while ago, so David was just sitting at his desk allowing them to chat and play on their phones. Max notices a few cliques forming, students clumping up and talking amongst each other quietly. The students between him and the troublemakers had vacated their seats, so they were in direct view and earshot, even with their hushed voices.

Besides the blond apparently named Joel, there was a small girl with long, curly brown hair in skater attire as well as a larger, brown-haired boy in joggers and a sweatshirt. They seemed to be looking between David and the back of the room periodically, talking in hushed tones.

The big one gestures.  _ "... Lincoln says there's a nature walk that hour, so we can sneak in here and turn 'em all on then." _

_ "Is he gonna be here then?"  _ Joel asks.

_ "He can probably just ask for a bathroom pass."  _ The curly haired girl responds.  _ "Not like Greenwood's gonna say no." _

_ "So, should we open them all the way? Bridgette said there's some auto-shutoff thing or whatever."  _ The big one says.

The blonde shifts in his seat on the desk, leaning forward and pointing a finger at something. A lab table?  _ "If we open all of them just a little bit, it should be fine, right? There's like… 6 of them. That should be enough gas to do something fun." _

Max's eye twitches.  _ Are these idiots planning on opening the gas lines? _

He recalls the gas explosion back at camp. While an honest accident on his part, they were still lucky to get out unscathed. If Space Kid wasn't wearing that stupid fish bowl, he'd probably have gotten a concussion, or worse, from flying debris. While Max was definitely  _ not _ the most well-behaved kid in the world, he never tried to do anything that was directly hurtful… most of the time.

Well, maybe that last statement wasn't the most true, but he still didn't like these assholes. They were doing shit that was just straight destructive. They didn't  _ gain  _ anything from this. Sadism isn't funny, it's just in poor taste.

Max turns his head to obviously stare at the group, raising his feet up on the desk with a  _ thump. _ The blond's eyes flicker up to the noise and, upon noticing Max, tilts his head and nods towards him. The other two kids turn towards Max at Joel's prompting, all squinting at him suspiciously.

"Max!" David calls, and the boy's eyes are the only thing that moves to the counselor. David smiles. "I'm glad you're relaxed, but feet down please."

Max crosses his feet on the desk and turns his head to the front of the room. He sneers at the counselor.

“Shut up,  _ David." _ He says. David's lips press into a line, but Max's eyes narrow, challenging him. 

The counselor's face flashes in slight concern and some other emotion, but he maintains eye contact, only breaking it after a heavy sigh. 

"See me after class, Max." he says, defeated. Max's gut pangs at the tone, but he maintains his careless composure and rolls his head back over to the vandals, catching their pleased expressions.

They whisper amongst each other for a few minutes, smirks decorating their lips. This time Max can't seem to hear them, but he assumes the best and directs his attention back to his phone. The bell rings only seconds later, and the students pack up their things to leave. 

The room slowly clears out, and David walks over to Max's desk and sets his hands on his hips. 

"Max, I know you would rather not call me by my last name, and I'll continue to respect that, but please be a little more respectful to me as well in class, alright?" He asks. Max looks back into his eyes, seeing that strange, unfamiliar emotion in them once again. Disappointment?

Max pulls his feet off of the desk, finding more comfort in staring at the empty whiteboard rather than at his guardian. "Jesus Christ David, do you have to make everything into a huge deal? I get it, whatever." A pause. "Sorry." He adds.

David's frown turns into a lopsided smirk, and he lightly ruffles Max's hair before having to dodge the small, slappy hands.

"Thanks kiddo." He says. Max fixes his hair, glancing around the room in slight embarrassment. 

"Whatever, camp man. When's lunch, anyways?" He asks. He wasn't really looking forward to school lunch, but he had plotting to do.

Plus, he was getting a  _ little _ hungry.

David glances at some kids walking through the door, giving them a slight wave. "Lunch is after fourth hour, I'll walk you to the cafeteria after class."

"David, I'm perfectly capable of following the sea of hyped up children that are somehow enthusiastic to eat whatever garbage this school decides to serve. You don't need to hold my hand and shit."

This time it's David who glances around. "Language,  _ especially  _ in the classroom, but yes, you're right." He pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and produces a faculty ID card. "Have them swipe this, it's basically a debit card."

Max takes the card and turns it over in his hands, taking note of David's stupid gigantic smile on the portrait. "Aren't they gonna, I don't know, question a little foreign kid for having a  _ faculty _ ID?"

David shrugs. "I don't think they actually look at the card at all, I've given my ID to students before." He smiles at Max. "You can get whatever snacks you want too, I don't mind."

Max peers back up at David and shoves the ID into his pocket. "You sure you wanna phrase it that way? I can bankrupt you again."

David turns, returning to his place at the front of the room. "And  _ I  _ can cancel credit card charges. But no, there's a spending limit, so I'm not concerned."

The bell rings for the start of fourth period, and while Max was somewhat disgruntled with one of his previous plans being thwarted, he still zones out once again.


	17. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I hate writing OC's.  
> Next chapter comes out on Tuesday! It's a doozy, so stay tuned!

Fourth period was exactly the same lecture as first, so Max was thoroughly bored and greatly thankful of the bell for lunch. A few students ran out of the room like wild hyenas, but the majority just calmly packed up their things and left to their lockers. It was easy enough to follow the flow of traffic to get to the crowded cafeteria.

While Max's plan for the beginning of the day was to sit outside in relative solitude, his new plans (combined with the onset of some heavy rain) had him scouting out the cafeteria tables for a spot with as few students possible. Once he got his lunch and sat down, Max knew he only had to be patient.

He didn't have to wait long. Only 5 minutes into the half-hour lunch, four other students sit down across and alongside him at his table, boxing him in on all sides.

"Hey, you're Max, right?" The blonde kid asks. Wasn’t his name Joel? "Mr. Greenwood said you just transferred here. Where are you from?"

Max gives himself time to finish his bite, sizing up the group as he chews. Joel and the curly-haired girl were across from him, and the big dude and another, unfamiliar boy were on his left-  _ both _ of them notably larger than Max. It seems like they know their roles in the little gang.

Not that it mattered. Their intentions were clear enough for Max to abuse.

He swallows his bite, not looking up from his food. "Who's asking?" He says, splitting his tone between defensive and interested.

Joel jabs a thumb at himself, interrupting the girl. "I'm Joel. I’m the one that drew on the board today." He states proudly. Max had to hold back a biting comment. 

He points to each student. "She's Jasmine. The one on your right is Lincoln, he's not in our science class, so you probably don’t recognize him. The football player on your left is Ian."

"A pleasure." Max says sarcastically. He gestures to the boys beside him. "You mind giving a guy a little personal space? I'd rather not be suffocated by the raging testosterone over here."

The two boys immediately back off without any further convincing, and average-boy (Lincoln) grins in a weird way, glancing at Joel. The girl, Jasmine, rolls her eyes. "They're idiots, don't acknowledge them. So, where did you transfer from?"

Max takes his time answering them, calmly eating while he thinks of a response that fits his needs. The pause gives off the air that he doesn't care about the group whatsoever, which apparently irritates the kids on his side of the bench.

"School in another county, not too far from here." He carefully explains. "After all the trouble I caused there, I got transferred here to get me outta their hair. Guess I raised too much hell."

Ian gawks at him. "Oh?” He asks. “What kinda hell did  _ you _ raise?" He looks Max up and down, which kinda pisses him off. Okay, making shitty judgements right off the bat, nice.

Max shrugs, maintaining his composure. "The typical shit. Persuaded kids to pull fire alarms, organized uprisings, general chaos and mayhem. Depends on what I wanted to accomplish." He rests his head in his hand casually. "At my summer camp, I got the shit beat out of my counselors for a few hundred bucks, burnt down a few rival camps for the hell of it, stole someone's identity to impersonate them, and singlehandedly dismantled an entire organization and consequently blackmailed them into  _ generously _ donating to our cause." He pauses. The students blink at him.

"Just the usual shit."

The four kind of glance between each other, Joel with a wide grin.

"I’m gonna tell him." He says. "I mean, he's the  _ new kid. _ Completely free of suspicion, it’s goddamn perfect."

The girl furrows her brow. "Wouldn't he have a record? There's someone that's gotta know why he transferred. I mean, we all know Kyle was in Juvy."

A few of the kids look towards Max, and he shakes his head. "Are you kidding me? If I actually got caught then I'd have been thrown in Juvy a while ago. Only idiots get caught." He glances at Joel. "Like, with your little stunt this morning. He could only give you detention if he had  _ proof."  _

He grabs a bite of his sub, then continues around it. “And you were smart enough to not give him any.” Max wasn't prideful enough to avoid the benefits of a little flattery.

The delinquents look at each other, and while the girl looks a little more open to Max, the other two beside him would still need some convincing. Although…

He looks at Joel's hopeful expression. The kid seems to really want him here, so maybe he could let him do the legwork.

Max glances around at the group and picks up his half-empty lunch tray, standing up from the bench. "Listen, I’m not 100% sure what this is all about, but I can tell when people need their privacy, I'll be back." He says, and walks off towards the trash bins without another word.

He pulls out his phone. There’s only about 15 minutes of lunch left, so he'll give them 5 minutes of time to make their 'decision' on whether to let him on on their little plan. Realistically, he could  _ probably  _ deduce it on his own, but this was the easiest route, and the most interesting. 

It was never any fun if it wasn't a game.

He wanders off to the lunch line, grabbing one of those frozen ice cream cups with the little wooden spoons. He eats about half of it, periodically chewing on the spoon while leaning against the cafeteria wall and watching the rain pour outside. Once he thinks they’ve had enough time, he pulls out his phone briefly before slipping it back into his pocket and returning to the lunch table. 

Max walks up, and the group is sitting quietly, everyone but Joel looking at him. 

"Alright, you sound like an interesting dude, so we’ve got an idea." Joel begins, and Max allows himself a moment of satisfaction at a job well-done. "We're planning on pulling a thing on Mr. Greenwood, the science teacher? We want to figure out if he can even  _ get _ mad. We've been trying to wear him down for weeks, but no matter what the fuck we do he just smiles and writes another detention slip. We want him to snap."

"Snap? Okay..." Max muses, nodding. "What are you planning?"

The girl, Jasmine, smirks. "We're gonna turn his room into a  _ fireball _ ." She whispers. "It was Ian's idea. Leak all the gas lines and wait til Greenwood sparks it."

_ "Or,"  _ Lincoln interrupts, "we light it ourselves if Greenwood doesn't by the end of seventh period." He pauses, looking down to pick at the dirt beneath his nails. "We haven't really figured out that backup yet."

"Uh huh…" Max raises an eyebrow. "So, you’re leaking all the gas lines for who knows how long and then expecting him to light it.” He says. “You  _ do _ realize that you could like, actually kill someone like that, right? You'd be causing a massive explosion."

Joel shakes his head. "Nah, we don't plan on opening them that much because there's some sort of valve on there that stops it, or something- we don’t really know the specifics. Plus, we don't  _ actually  _ wanna kill anybody." 

"Yeah," Lincoln breaks in again. "My pa' did the same kinda thing we're doing with his grill, and he just singed his eyebrows off. As long as there’s not too much gas, it’s fine."

Max pops another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. A  _ million  _ things could potentially go wrong with their idiotic plan, the smell, someone finding them, this valve they were talking about, but he decides to just change the topic to try to dig up more info. If they wanted to be idiots, he’d allow them for the sake of fucking them over. "Why the science teacher?” Max asks. “And when do you even plan on doing this?"

The girl snorts. "Have you  _ met _ Mr. Greenwood? He's just so… ugh, annoying, and always gives us detention, and always has that stupid smile on his face, like he's looking down on you. It's been a long time coming. Seeing that idiot’s ginger hair fry off will be fucking hilarious."

Max’s chest twists in anger at the girl for her statements, but pushes the confusing feeling down with another scoop of ice cream, attempting to keep his face neutral.

"We're planning on doing it on Thursday, you kinda had the perfect timing, showing up here now." Joel says. "Lincoln's class is going out for a nature walk then. He's gonna keep the door open for us and we're just gonna ask to pee to get out of our classes, we've got it all timed out and everything."

Max nods, fake awe and interest lining his tone. "Wow, you guys got it  _ all _ figured out, don't you?" He points his wooden spoon at them. "How long have you been planning this? Weeks, months?" He asks.

The big one, Ian, who was previously silent, speaks. "About a week.” He says. “Heard Mr. Greenwood telling that nerdy lab assistant Bridgette how to work the gas lines. Lincoln and I scared her into telling us how, too." He spins an empty Coke bottle around on the table.

"Okay." Max nods, and then pauses, thinking about his word choice carefully. So far, these idiots were giving him everything he needed. He only had to push a bit more... "So, a week of planning, and you're jeopardizing all that to recruit the new kid?" He frowns and lowers his voice an octave. "That's a lot of trust to put in someone you just met, isn't it?"

Joel's eyes narrow, and the group looks between each other. "It is." He says, hesitating. "We were sure you'd be down with it, especially based on your history."

The girl frowns as well, nodding at the two boys beside Max, who lean in once again to box him in. 

Max grimaces. "Hey guys? Remember that thing about  _ personal space?" _ He argues, trying to shove the scowling boys away from him. "Yeah, now would be a great time to embrace it. Call your goons off."

Joel starts to say something, but Jasmine interrupts. "I'm sure you know that Joel likes you, but the rest of us aren't that dumb." She speaks quietly, and it feels as if Max is a caged animal. He suppresses a scoff. These assholes were ballsy, he’d give them that, but this was just pissing him off even more.

"Whether you help us or not, just don't get in our way, you got that, shrimp?" She says. "We don't like snitches."

Max stares her down for a moment, scowl deepening on his face. He raises his hands up in surrender and relaxes, displaying a nervous smirk.

"Relax, I'm not gonna tell anyone. Especially not with your big brutish friends here." He says, nodding his head from side to side. "I'm just pointing some stuff out, alright? Don't wanna get on your bad side on the first day."

Joel nudges the girl. "Dude stop, he's chill." The boys hesitate, but they lean back, leaving Max’s personal bubble. He stuffs another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, raising an eyebrow at Joel.

"This how you treat all your new  _ friends?" _ He asks. Joel shakes his head. 

"No, ignore that.  _ We"  _ he looks around at the group as he stresses the word "think you're fine. They're just being idiots." 

Jasmine starts to protest, but the bell rings, cutting her off. Max stands immediately, looking Joel in the eyes with a smile and a determined stare, saying nothing. The rest of the group watch the interaction with light suspicion.

Joel however, accepts the silence from Max, smirking as well. "Thursday, beginning of seventh period." He says.

Max nods and walks off, one hand stuffed into his hoodie pocket and the other tossing the empty treat cup in the trash. He continues to chew on the wooden spoon while walking to David's classroom.

Once he was sure he wasn't being followed, he pulls his phone out from his pocket, turning off the audio recorder and saving it under the filename 'dipshits'.

He didn’t like the look of those kids from the get-go, so he  _ did _ want to mess with them. He didn’t think they’d hand him the perfect opportunity to do so on a silver platter. He looks at his reflection in the windows, the backdrop of rain obscuring his figure. Looks like he had a lot of planning to do.

Oh yes, this could be fun.


	18. Chapter 17

The rest of the classes for the day were repeats aside from a 'free period' right after lunch (which was just David grading at his computer and Max reading on his phone). During those last few hours, Max tuned out the duplicate lectures and tried to fine-tune the details on his plan.

There were a number of things he could do to those little assholes that would both prevent the school from going up in flames and entertainingly fuck with them. It became more difficult if he wanted to feign innocence to both the school and their group, but with the incriminating recording, it left a lot of avenues open - namely blackmail.

But what did they have that Max wanted? Not much, to be honest. Cash was always nice to have in case of an emergency, but he didn't think they had a lot between the four of them, and he didn't want to be the reason a kid stole out of their parents' wallets again. Max has never been interested in popularity, so that was a no-go, and he didn't have anyone from this school on his hit list just yet.

Well, besides them. He never liked the crude immaturity that kids his age had, particularly bullies. Dick drawings, stealing lunch money, harassing teachers in minor, surface-level ways. It was all just so boring and small-thinking.

That didn't necessarily mean that they couldn't be used to his benefit. Quite the contrary, actually. Bullies and troublemakers were the most vulnerable, the most easily manipulated of any social clique. Their minds work in very simple, self-serving ways. Campbell and Nurf were prime examples back at camp. These clowns? Even easier.

This would be even better if Max had more time to plan, more time to figure out their weaknesses and intentions. They hated David, that part was clear, but was it because he was an easy target? A challenging one? He doubted that their motives were all that deep. Max targeted David because he was basically an incarnation of everything  _ opposite  _ of what Max stood for.

Well, maybe not anymore. He didn't have a dying need to impede the man as much. He was fun to annoy, sure, but doing it to the extent that he'd done in the past kind of just made him feel like an asshole. Usually that was fine, but recently…

He decided not to dwell on it.

The bell for the end of eighth hour calls, and the students quickly file out into the hallway, excited to get home and out of the school despite the pouring rain. Max sits patiently at his desk, watching them with mild interest. As soon as the room is empty, he stands, lazily walking to the front of the class.

"How did you enjoy your first day, kiddo?" David asks. He packs his laptop into his satchel and leaves the large demo table to sit at his desk. "I know a new school can be a little scary at first, did you at least have an okay time?"

"I'm not scared of anything,  _ David. _ We talked about this." He debates telling him about the kids from lunch, but decides against it. He wanted to keep his options open, and telling David might limit them. "It was fine, just boring listening to the same lectures over and over again. Here's your card." He sets the ID on the desk and slides it over to the counselor.

"Well, it's a big school, so I have to teach a lot of duplicate classes to get everyone covered. The majority of my classes are required rather than elective." He takes the ID and slips it into his wallet, turning towards the computer on his desk. "You understood it all, though? Most of them were above your grade level."

Max shrugs, leaning on the side of the desk and shoving his hands into his pants pockets. "Most of the stuff is in the books, it's not hard to understand if you're not a moron."

David smiles past the thinly-veiled insult towards the other students. "Um, that's good!" He says. "I'm glad it comes easily to you."

Max shoves his hands into his pocket and looks out into the hallway. "Whatever David, when are we getting out of here?" Most of the students have departed by now, leaving the building pretty quiet. The rumble of rain still pattering on the roof can now be heard echoing throughout the emptying school.

"Teachers generally have to stay at least until the busses leave, just in case students want to come in for help…" he pauses, rocking his head back and forth.  _ "Buuuut, _ I think we can break the rules a little, especially since this storm is rolling in quick." He smiles, picking up his satchel and slinging it over his shoulder. "Think we can beat it home?"

Max smiles, but struggles to force it into his usual scowl. "Whatever, camp man! It's not like you can drive anything other than like, two miles over the speed limit."

TTTTTTTT

As it turns out, David could drive  _ far _ over the speed limit when he wanted to, even in torrential rain and with a screaming, cursing 11-year-old in the passenger seat. Max wasn't  _ scared _ per se, just freaked out from the seemingly manic smile on the man as he drove 20 miles over in almost zero visibility.

"Well that was peachy!" David says, shaking out his hair in the entryway. "Haven't drove like that since college!"

Max stumbles in after him, shaking his head like a dog to get the rainwater out of his own curls. "Are you  _ fucking  _ crazy? You could have killed us!" He yells. "We couldn't see a damn thing!"

David ruffles Max's wet hair, sending more water into the growing puddle on the entryway floor. "While I usually wouldn't condone breaking the law, these backroads rarely have anyone on them. I've been driving them for almost a decade now too, so I know every pitch and bend like Camp Campbell's hiking trails!" 

Max pushes his damp hair out of his face, slicking it back across the top of his head. "How you manage to make  _ literally  _ everything lame as hell is beyond me. I'm taking a shower." He mumbles, walking past David to trudge up the stairs.

A flash of lightning paired with a clap of thunder shakes the house and the two jump, David placing a hand over his heart and Max tightly gripping his hoodie until the rumbling stops. The counselor turns back towards Max and smiles, the younger of the two attempting to shift himself into a calmer attitude.

“I don’t think a shower is a good idea, buddy. We should get out of these wet clothes though.” David slips his cheap wingtips off in the entryway and walks upstairs, Max kicking off his own shoes and trailing behind, both of them dripping rainwater onto the plush carpeting.

Max takes another look at the front door and the pouring rain as they walk up the stairs. “What do you mean  _ no _ shower? Don’t tell me you believe that bullshit about lightning jumping through the pipes or whatever.” Max follows David into the bathroom, catching a towel that’s thrown his way.

David dries off his own hair as well. “What? That’s what my mother always told me. Even if it isn't true, if the power goes out you’ll be stuck in a dark bathroom alone, you could slip and fall.” he lies the towel around his neck, his hair sticking up in odd spikes on his head.

"I'm not gonna fall,  _ David." _ Max gets to work on his own hair as well, the chill starting to get to him. He would rather use a blow-dryer since his curls are so ridiculously thick, but he'll make due. "I'm not a clumsy idiot like you."

David laughs. "Fair enough, but I'm still going to have to say no. Plus, it's just rain, almost like a shower already!" He walks past Max and into his bedroom. "I'll be right back! Flashlights are in the laundry room if the power drops."

Max drapes his own towel over his head like a cowl, walking into his bedroom and leaving a wet trail across the hardwood floor. "I have a phone, moron!" he yells, shutting the door to change as well. 

TTTTTTTT

The storm rolls on through the afternoon, dinner, and evening, but the power thankfully remains on. The two of them spend the night quietly watching Animal Planet as they eat, David periodically making offhand comments about the scenes. It honestly reminded Max of being at camp, the way he would gush about random nature facts. 

The familiarity is relaxing, but the storm still rages on in the background, the noise jolting him out of his trance with each crack. He wasn't  _ scared,  _ because again, he didn't  _ get  _ scared, but he generally isn't comfortable with things that are louder than him. They put him on edge.

So when it became time for both Max and David to head to bed, he really didn’t want to.

"David, it's like 10 o'clock. If you want to go to bed then go right ahead, but don't expect me to conform to your lame ass sleep schedule." A quiet wave of rolling thunder vibrates the house after Max's comment, barely becoming louder than the constant roar of rain pounding on the rooftop. He hopes David doesn't read into the reasoning too much.

David takes the remote from the coffee table and turns off the TV anyways. "Sorry Max, but on school nights I'm going to call bedtime at 10. I won't take away your phone, but I least want you to be in bed, okay?" He looks out the window for a few seconds before drawing the blinds and locking the front door.

Max is hesitant, but slowly slides off of the couch and shuffles upstairs, wishing he was wearing a hoodie to hide his hands in. David smiles, muttering a quiet thanks before turning off all of the lights and doing other end-of-day tasks.

Max shuts the bedroom door behind him, leaning against it and flinching against another pairing of lightning and thunder. Max frowns at himself and grabs Mr Honeynuts before climbing in bed, huddling with his head beneath the covers. He focuses on his phone, trying to fall asleep while watching random youtube videos and clutching his bear.

After a few minutes, a knock sounds at his door.

_ "Max?" _

Max groans, throwing the covers off of him and slapping the phone onto the bed. "What?" He asks, clear annoyance in his tone.

David's voice is still muffled through the door.  _ "I just wanted to tell you goodnight." _

Max sighs. "Yeah, whatever." He flops back onto his pillow. "Night." He adds on the end.

A faint chuckle echoes through the door.  _ "Sweet dreams, Max." _ is all that's said before soft footfalls fade away from his door.

As soon as the sound of David's footsteps fade into the storm, he hastily covers himself back up with the blankets and tucks his phone under his pillow, curling up as small as he can and burying his head in as many blankets as possible to muffle the thunder and his racing thoughts.

Usually, the flashbacks and nightmares were manageable enough to at least get  _ some _ sleep each night, but storms always did something that made them even more vivid. The crashing, the flashes, the shaking, it brought back… less than pleasant memories, and each time they get yanked back up, it becomes harder to shove them back inside his mind.

_ "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck" _ he whispers, a constant mantra of his own flavor. He focuses on the movement of his tongue, the shape of his mouth, the breaths he takes. He forces a pattern and hones in on that, ignoring all else and attempting to fall into a trance.

_ It's just the storm.  _ He thinks.  _ It's just mother nature telling us to fuck off. Nothing else, nothing else, nothing else. _

He thinks about camp, he thinks about David's house, he thinks about Nikki and Neil, Gwen. He thinks about the rest of the campers, about Mr. Honeynuts, about the broken staff, the games on his phone.

Anything that didn't remind him of home.

It takes a while, and he loses track of time, but Max eventually begins to drift off, the sound of rain and thunder muffled through the many blankets and pillows piled around him. With relief and fatigue gradually fogging his mind, he allows himself to relax, a pleasant, vivid memory flooding into his sleepy brain.

He didn't even care that the first person he thought of was David.

_ Max sits in the backseat of the camp sedan awkwardly, David giving him worried glances as the boy wipes the tears from his eyes. He glares at the counselor. _

_ "Mind your own business, David." He says. He didn't even care to ask where he was being taken. He probably royally fucked up enough for them to just take him to the station. It's not like the camp was going to survive the night anyways. _

_ David doesn't say anything at first, and Gwen just leans further into the passenger side window, but then Max hears a quiet statement from the counselor. _

_ "I am." David says. Nothing more, nothing less. Max scowls, leaning down further in his seat so he couldn't see David's stupid face in the mirror anymore. He was tired of looking at it. _

_ The car stops, and both of the counselors get out, but Max still stubbornly remains seated and with his eyes burning holes into the back of the front seat. The two have a short, hushed conversation that Max can't quite hear, but he sees Gwen walk away out of the corner of his eye. He scowls even deeper. _

_ The back door opens, and Max still doesn't move. David crouches down as usual to be at eye level with him and reaches over to unbuckle his seatbelt. _

_ "C'mon kiddo, can you come out for me?" _

_ Max remains silent, standing his ground in the back seat of the car. David's lips press together for a second before giving a strained smile. He chuckles. _

_ "You know I can carry you if you want to be stubborn, right?" He says. He opens his arms, as if preparing to do just that. _

_ Max grimaces, he would rather go straight into a foster home before he lets  _ **_David_ ** _ of all people pick him up. He doesn't make eye contact, but uncrosses his arms. _

_ "Move." Max says. Short and sweet.  _

_ David gets the message, raising back up to full height and stepping aside to allow Max to get out. His shoes hit the concrete with a thud, and he stares at his feet as he follows David to whatever hellhole he decided to bring him to. _

_ A delightful smell hits his nose, and its enough of a shock to cause him to glance up. His face melts into an expression of surprise and confusion as he reads the sign for Sleepy Peak Pizza Bros. He looks around the building, almost like he's expecting some sort of ambush or trap, but all he can see is Gwen standing at the counter through the window and David opening the door for him, the cheap electronic door chime ringing in the background. _

_ Max walks in, completely bewildered at the reasoning for this visit, and follows David to an empty booth. They… what were they doing? Camp was falling apart right now, and they took the very reason for that decline out to  _ **_pizza_ ** _? _

_ He follows David in, to a booth near the door. He’s silent for a bit, just trying to understand what’s going on, but eventually just voices his confusion. _

_ "Why are we here?" Max asks, and it's a genuine question. He thought David cared more about his shitty founder and the camp more than anything. "What about Campbell's big show?" _

_ "Ehh, it's stupid." David replies, and Max can't help but hear the strange carelessness in his tone. _

_ "What?" _

_ David looks down at the ground, and then back at Max. "You were right." David says. "It's stupid. You shouldn't have to pretend for anyone." _

_ Max scans David's face for any sign of a lie, but can't find any. Was he… what was he doing? "Are you… okay?" He asks, because he knew, fuck,  _ **_everyone_ ** _ knew that the camp was David's life, as stupid as it was. He was throwing that all away for… for him? _

_ David shakes his head, then looks out the window. "I'm… sorry, Max." He says. "I try to always see the good in things, and I try to get others to see the same, but… pretending like things are okay when they're not doesn't help anything." _

_ The weight of David's words gently settle into Max's mind. For the first time in Max's life, he was really speechless. Sure, there had been talks he'd gotten in the past from teachers and counselors, but none of them  _ **_really_ ** _ cared. They didn't put any effort into making him feel better or tried to help him once Max pushed them away. They told him how to endure, how to deal with his problems rather than solve them. _

_ They all just… gave up. _

_ But David, and Gwen, too… not only are they trying and wanting to help, but David was also prioritizing _ **_Max_ ** _ over the camp he'd spent his entire childhood at. Prioritizing  _ **_Max_ ** _ over the Camp Campbell he's seemingly poured his entire life into. _

_ But why? _

_ "I'm sorry your parents don't care enough, Max. You have every right to be angry." _

_ Oh, that's right. _

_ "But you deserve to be  _ **_happy_ ** _ , and I hope you can find that here at camp, even if it's not today." _

_ It's because it was David. _

_ And David would never know it, but those words left a fleeting hope in Max that he'd thought he lost a long time ago. _

_ The rest of the memory blurs out. He remembers Gwen setting the pizza in front of them, he remembers the casual small-talk being exchanged around the meal. He remembers being hesitant to eat, but eventually grabbing a slice of his own and enjoying the warm, gooey cheese and spicy pepperoni. _

_ He remembers being happy. Thankful. _

_ "You don't deserve  _ **_shit,_ ** _ Maxwell." _

_ Max looks up from his meal, and the warm, comfortable scene from the pizza place has vanished, a dark, uncanny one replacing it. _

_ It was his living room. He had his back to the stairs, and when he looked back down at his hands, they were empty. The voice booms in the background. _

_ "You are entitled to  _ **_exactly_ ** _ what we give you, nothing more. We clothe you, feed you, house you, and you treat me with this disrespect?" _

_ Max spins around, slowly stumbling up the stairs and searching the room for the source of the voice. He could feel his heart pounding relentlessly in his chest, each thump paired with a labored breath. His skin was sticky with sweat, it almost felt like he was melting. Maybe he was. _

_ A loud crash from what sounds like the kitchen startles him, and he backs up another few stairs in fear. _

_ "God  _ **_DAMN IT!_ ** _ " _

_ Swears, screams, and not from Max. More crashes, but from the study. He was almost at the top of the stairs, almost to the safety of his room. All he had to do- _

_ "Maxwell! Get your ass down here!" _

_ He freezes, torn between listening and desperately not wanting to. If he went down, he could minimize the damage. Maybe, if he was lucky, get yelled at and leave it at that. _

_ But there was always a possibility for worse when he gets like this. _

_ He looks up the stairs. Only a few more to get to his room, but each step seemed to get steeper and steeper as he went on. He knew there were exactly 13 steps to get upstairs, and he was on the 11th. Two more, but his head was spinning, everything was tilting, the stairs getting steeper, slanting, lurching. _

_ "Please please please please please." He whispers. Another mantra, another plead. "Mom, mom…" he cries. It was getting hard to see. Tears? He claws himself up another stair. _

_ A booming sound, it could have been a voice, it could have been a crash, but it set his nerves on fire either way. He was getting frantic, and Max struggles to pull himself up the last stair. He can see his bedroom door. Safety, he just had to get there, and- _

_ A hand grabs his wrist and pulls Max up the last step. Keeping his eyes on his bedroom door, he's flooded with relief as his goal is easily, finally within reach. _

_ He looks up, a glazed-eyed David pulling him up and off of the stairs. _

_ "David, David-" Max looks up into the eyes of his counselor, thankful that if he’s here, Max is safe-  _

_ He pauses. David’s face doesn't look quite right, his eyes focusing in and out of Max's own. He doesn't say anything, either, and his expression is uncharacteristically blank, devoid of any and all emotion. He looks like a robot, a mannequin, a fake. _

_ "David?" He asks, and the counselor seems to look behind him, towards the bottom of the stairs. _

_ "Max." His voice echoes in a strange, foggy way. "I'm proud of you, Max." _

_ Max's face contorts in confusion, and he looks behind him, down the stairs to a blurry, empty entryway and quiet living room. There was nothing, no one there. His eyebrows draw together. _

_ "I don't-" the hand- David’s hand tightens around Max’s wrist to the point of pain, and he's jerked upwards off of his knees into the air. He scratches at his counselor's fingers, wincing and confused and scared as he looks up at David- _

_ It's not David. _

**_"You don't listen to a word I say, do you, boy?"_ **

_ Max's heart stops, and white noise buzzes in his ears. He begins to hyperventilate, and struggles against his father's grasp. He yells, screams, but his voice is lost, the demanding voice of Victor drowning it out. He closes his eyes, childish thinking taking over. _

_ "Useless shit." Victor says, and the grip on his wrist vanishes. Knowing what’s coming, Max tries to reach back out, the fear of falling overriding his decision-making, but all he sees is his father turning his back to him as he's carelessly tossed down the stairs. _

_ He falls in slow-motion, he can't breathe. It feels like he's sinking, drowning. His sight darkens as he falls, falls, falls. _

_ His back hits one of the stairs, and a loud  _ **_crack_ ** _ borderline deafens Max. _

_ He doesn't feel the pain, but he screams nonetheless. _


	19. Chapter 18

" **Fuck!** Shit!"

Max wakes up and panics, his brain barely registering that what happens to be restricting his movements are the  _ blankets _ rather than an actual person. He frantically uncovers his head and kicks the covers to the foot of the bed, cringing at the way the sheets stick to his sweaty skin.

Another  _ crash _ of lightning and thunder bathe the room in a flash of light, and Max whimpers and backs into the pillows against the headboard. He grips his hair, bringing his knees up to his face and panting into his lap. He was confused, scared, he didn't understand what was going on, he didn't know where he was-

The bedroom door suddenly bursts open, causing Max to flinch and scramble as far back as he can while still managing to keep himself on the bed. 

"Max?!" David asks, the light from the hallway illuminating the boy's wild, unfocused eyes. The counselor had heard yelling from his camper’s bedroom, running over as soon as it registered that _Max_ was _screaming._

David lunges forward without thinking, reaching out to the kid and wanting so desperately to soothe whatever was making him so panicked, but Max flinches back from his touch, shielding his face with a hand and closing his eyes. David freezes, taking a moment to assess the situation, and the view absolutely breaking his heart.

Things were gradually clicking together in David's mind with all of this information, and he lowers his hands, taking slow, careful movements. He deduces that the fear Max was experiencing… probably wasn't because of him, or the storm.

He does his best to shove his anger down into the pit his stomach was turning into.

"Max," he whispers, and they both flinch at another flash of lightning, a low rumble of thunder easing in afterwards. "I'm… you're okay, Max."

Max continues to back away as far as he can, teetering on the very edge of the mattress. David can just barely make out the tears smeared across his cheeks in the dim light. The counselor edges forward, doing his best to smile calmly at Max and move in a non-threatening manner.

"I'm not going to…" he chokes on the words, holding back tears at the implication. "I'm not going to hurt you, Max." His hands touch the edge of the bed and he slowly eases himself onto it, sitting as far as possible away from the boy. 

"I promise." David says.

He gives Max time, as much as he needs, to grasp the situation. 

(It takes much longer than David would prefer.)

Soon, Max's breathing slows, but his eyes still don't focus. David continues gently talking in a reassuring manner, trying to draw him out of his own mind. "You know me, Max. It's David. From Camp Campbell. Your counselor. David." 

Max’s eyes tear up, and he blinks. Moving forward on the bed to sit on his knees, he seems to actually register who was in front of him. He angrily swipes at the tears that fall, hiccupping and pushing the heels of his hands into his sockets.

"F-fuck…" his voice breaks in the middle of the explative.

David gives himself a little more purchase on the bed, feeling that Max is comfortable enough for him to do so. 

"Max…" David says, and he reaches out to him, but draws his hand back before he can make contact, recalling the last reaction and clutching his palm to his chest. "Are you… okay?"

Max's breath hitches and he tenses, but exhales, long and heavy.

"Just- just go away, David." He chokes out.

David frowns, saddened at the statement, but he doesn't leave. He won't.

He can't.

David shifts again as the storm carries on in the background, his movement jostling the bed ever so slightly. "You don't have to tell me what happened, but… at least let me be here, okay?"

He pauses. "For me?" David adds on at the end.

Something like a cross between a snort and a scoff leaves Max's mouth, but it doesn't sound like an objection. That's probably the best David's gonna get, and he'll gladly take it. He relaxes a bit, settling against the headboard beside his camper and moving his legs up and onto the bed.

Max picks up the bear he tossed aside in his panic, but remains where he is, rubbing his face in the stuffed animal and sniffling periodically. A few thunder crashes echo outside, but they've both calmed down enough to stop flinching at the strikes.

Max sighs after a bit, scooting back to the headboard and slumping against it himself. His voice, when he speaks, is barely above a whisper. Enough that David almost doesn't hear it over the pouring rain.

"I'm fine David. You can go to sleep."

David turns his head to look at Max, and the light is just bright enough to make out the kid’s tired but frustrated expression. The counselor shakes his head.

"Don't worry about me." he says. "You know that I'm more worried about you."

Max scowls and brings his legs up to his chest again, sandwiching his bear against his chest. David's been noticing that whenever Max becomes uncomfortable, he both physically and socially draws into himself, almost as if he's trying to take up as little space as possible.

He mumbles into the animal's worn fur, his eyes peeking out above it and gazing at something in front of him. "You shouldn't care." He says, and that statement baffles David. 

He asks the exact thing that pops in his mind. "Why not?"

David didn't really know any feasible answer to that. Was he being sarcastic?

Max shakes his head again. "You just… shouldn't." He whispers. "I don't deserve it."

David gapes at the boy sitting beside him, scooting back some more to sit up straight. "Max, oh no, what-" he stutters. "What in the dickens makes you think that? Everyone deserves to be cared about."

Max doesn't miss a beat. "Because I don't." he says. " _ Nobody _ is entitled to anything. It's not like I  _ do _ anything to deserve it. My own… fucking parents don't even want me around, so why should anyone else?"

David is left speechless.  _ This _ is how his parents make him feel? Like he doesn't deserve basic care and acceptance? Max… Max deserved the world, at least in David's eyes. He's clever beyond comprehension, has critical thinking and problem-solving skills far past anything David's seen in a kid his age, is incredibly independent and free-thinking, and cares so, so much for the people that really matter in his life, more than anyone can possibly see.

"Max," David reaches out towards the boy, and this time doesn't stop. He sets his hand down on his head and shuffles closer, pulling Max into him at the same time. Max tenses, but doesn't flinch back from the contact.

"I'm never going to stop caring. Never ever, okay? Whether you want me to be or not, I'm here, and I'm not leaving." He gently runs his hand back and forth through Max's curls that were still damp from his brief time in the rain. "The fact that your parents don't care isn't  _ at all _ your fault, not in a million years. That's on them, and… I know this isn't exactly nice to say, but gosh, they're really,  _ really  _ terrible people for it."

Max sniffles a bit under his arm, but still doesn't pull away. David takes that as permission to continue. "I'll be here if you need to talk, if you need someone to be with you- jeez, I'll be here even if you don't need me." 

Max looks up into David's eyes, his own teal ones almost overflowing with tears. His face looks confused, like what David's saying just doesn't make any sense. His eyes dart around David's face, probably looking for some sign of a lie.

_ "Why?" _

David's own eyes start to tear up a little bit from that because, to Max, this probably  _ was _ genuinely unbelievable. Their abuse and neglect somehow caused such a deeply rooted belief that absolutely  _ nobody  _ would care for him, or even want to.

A memory flows back into David's mind. Max… he's asked this a few times, actually. Why did David care? It was always a different answer each time, a valid answer each time. There were tons of reasons why David cared about anything.

But there's one that always sticks out the most.

"I care…" David says, and his eyes flick around the room before landing back on Max’s. "because someone just… just really fucking has to, Max, and that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t if someone else did, either." Tears start to roll down Max's cheeks. The memory was emotional to David, and apparently Max, too. He kept the staff, after all. “Ultimately, I care because I want to, and nothing anyone can do will change that. Not your parents, not Gwen, not anyone.”

David looks down into Max’s eyes, which were still staring up at him. “Not even you. I’ll always care, kiddo, you can count on that.”

Max doesn't sob, doesn’t yell, doesn’t do anything, he just continues to stare, tears falling silently down his cheeks. David, seeing this, uses the chance to pull him into a tight hug, and Max surprisingly allows this, even crawling into David’s lap on his own regard. The boy presses his ear against his counselor's chest and buries his face into the bear, and only then do silent sobs start to shake his tiny frame.

_ "It's okay, it's okay." _ David rocks back and forth, holding Max close to his chest and whispering small reassurances. He keeps running his hand through the boy's hair, it was always something that comforted him when he was younger, so he hoped that… it made Max feel the same.

He let his mind wander as they sat there, and he thought it was strange how Max, the loudest kid he knew aside from Preston, sobbed in silence. He would expect more… maybe not screaming or yelling, but he would think he'd be more vocal.

Instead, he was strangely quiet.

_ What did they do to you, Max? _

He lets Max calm down in his own time, the kid slowly becoming still in David's arms, his breathing becoming more and more regular. David sets his chin on top of his curls and wraps his other arm around him more fully, shifting his leg (which had long since fallen asleep) out from underneath the boy in the same movement.

"...do you want to talk about it?" David hesitantly asks. He wouldn't pry if Max didn't want him to, but he knew from experience that talking might be helpful, and more details about his home life would be useful to know for a variety of reasons.

Max seems to think about it for a little, shifting to be more comfortable while lying against David, but not receding from his lap.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, but sometimes talking can help." David breathes a small laugh. “I know from experience.”

Max rubs his face against David's nightshirt (an old counseling shirt, he had a million tattered and torn ones by now) before sniffling and mumbling.

"It's only a stupid fuckin' nightmare David, relax."

David hums. "Do you want to say what it was about?"

Max reaches over to the side to pull a blanket over them both. David was already kind of warm, but he wasn't going to say a thing about it. He'd gladly sleep here if it helped his little camper feel better.

"It started out fine, it was about…" a pause. "a nice memory. Then it changed into a… a flashback, or whatever." He shuffles, pulling the blanket over Mr. Honeynuts.

"It's fucking dumb, I know." He finishes.

David shakes his head and uses one hand to tuck Max into the blanket further. "Oh, golly. Not at all, okay kiddo? If your dreams are bad enough to keep you up at night then they're not dumb whatsoever." He lifts his chin off of Max's head and looks down at him. "I would never call anything that bothers you that much dumb. It obviously has an effect on you, so it's the last thing from it."

Max shakes his head. "It's in the past, it shouldn't matter anymore."

David thinks for a moment. "You still don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but is it about your parents?"

A scoff, and then a sniffle. "Jeez, what tipped you off? Was I screaming 'daddy daddy, don't hurt me!' in my sleep?"

David knows it's meant to be a joke, but it turns his stomach nonetheless. "No, I didn't hear anything except... a swear or two."

"You gonna scold me for it?"

"Not at all."

"Good."

They sit there for a while more, and David actually starts to drift off with Max lying in his arms. He's had a tiring few days, mostly emotionally, but he wasn't getting a lot of sleep on top of that due to the pressure of it all. Heck, even the storm (that was still rolling on in the background) was keeping him awake before he came in here. 

"The dream…" Max says, and it gently pulls David to the front of his mind again. "My father kind of… pushed me down the stairs once, and it was about that."

David almost doesn't grasp what Max says, questioning if he'd imagined it in his drowsy state, but jerks awake completely once he realizes that, no, Max  _ really _ just said that.

He sits up straight, jostling the little camper in his arms in the process. "What?" He asks on impulse, despite having clearly heard what he said. Max doesn't respond, but he doesn't need to.

Anger, real, true anger bubbles up inside David for the first time in  _ years. _ Not only did his parents make him feel like he didn't deserve kindness and affection, but his dad  _ threw him down the stairs? _ David thinks back to the home he briefly visited, he likely walked those stairs, Max  _ watched  _ him do so. Even being in the place that was associated with that kind of abuse towards Max made him absolutely sick, and painfully furious. 

His emotions must have shown enough for Max to pick up on, because the boy was looking up at David with apprehension and fear in his tired teal eyes.

He fidgets, pushing the counselor away ever so slightly. "Are you mad?" He asks, and it causes him to pause.

The tone of his voice, his expression, the fidgeting away, it pulls him out of his anger and back to reality.

The counselor shakes his head like a dog, clutching Max to his chest like a lifeline. Tears spill over his eyes and he sobs into the boy's hair, having to hold himself back to avoid crushing Max in his arms. 

"Not at you, Max. Not at all." He chokes out between sobs.

Max shifts a little, trying to get comfortable in the tight embrace. He huffs.

"Why are you crying, David?" he asks.

Why? He was crying because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Max had to go through this kind of thing, it wasn't fair that he was afraid of his own parents, of his own home. It wasn't fair that he didn't  _ have  _ a home, or a loving family that would take care of him. It wasn't fair that he didn't have a real, fond childhood to look back on in the future. It wasn't fair that he was such a clever, independent kid not  _ because  _ of his parents, but in spite of them.

Everything that ran through David’s mind just came out in another vigorous shake of his head, and Max, again, huffs in response.

David releases the kid with one arm to rub at his eyes and nose, and Max just kind of stares at him as he does this, more confusion written on his face.

"Moron." Max mumbles, and then he's suddenly wriggling out of David's lap. While he was sad that the kid was leaving, he lets him, not wanting to make Max feel uncomfortable. He was already surprised at how much contact he was allowed so far.

He was even more surprised when Max didn't leave, instead shifting to give  _ David  _ a proper hug, rubbing his tired eyes back onto the counselor's camp shirt. David blinks away his tears, sniffling and looking down at the strange sight.

"Max?" He asks, and the boy just shakes his head.

"Same deal asshole, I'll kill you if you tell anyone." He says, his voice getting pointedly groggy. "So don't go gushing about this to Gwen or... whoever. You probably don’t have friends, so I don’t think I have to worry about that."

David relaxes into the pillows behind him and chuckles at the half-threat, half-insult. After wiping his tears away again, he puts one hand on Max's head and adjusts the blanket so his camper was properly tucked in before wrapping his other arm around his tiny frame.

"Wouldn't dream of it, kiddo."

It doesn't take long for the both of them to fall asleep, even as the storm continues to rage outside.


	20. Chapter 19

_ “Max, hey bud, it's time to get up." _

Max awakens to David quietly talking and shaking him by his shoulder. He scowls, keeping his eyes closed. While it isn't a  _ terrible _ wake-up call, he's still annoyed. And as proper protocol, he announces it.

He groans, first. Then mumbles "Fuck off David, 'm sleeping."

David chuckles, which jostles Max. The boy groggily recalls the events of the previous night and realizes with a start that he’s still lying beside the counselor, clutching the guy’s torso. Mr. Honeynuts was even wedged between Max’s arm and David’s chest. His eyes snap open.

He freezes, mind teetering between jumping away from David or not, but he was more confused at the fact that he... didn't really care that he was hugging him. Traditionally, Max hated hugs. The contact made him uncomfortable, which was why he always scrambled away from any kind of affection. Nikki and Neil had a bit of leeway, but he never thought he'd give  _ David _ of all people that grace.

Hell, the only reason he would leave right now was because it was more of a saving face thing. Everything was warm and soft, a freshly washed comforter and fluffy pillows framing him perfectly. It was strange, right now he was  _ actually  _ comfortable. 

Things were making less and less sense to him as the week went on. 

"Max?" David's questioning pulled the kid from his own thoughts.

_ "What, _ David?"

"I said, 'I would get up, but you're kinda not letting me, kiddo.'" The counselor repeats with a laugh. "Plus, we've gotta shower and get ready for school."

"Uuuuugh" Max complains, but ultimately flops over, releasing David from his grasp and rubbing his face on his bear. "Didn't you say something about rain being a shower yesterday?" He asks.

David stands, stretching his arms above him with a few cracks and rubbing his eyes. "A shower with  _ soap,  _ buddy. C'mon, you can take one first while I make breakfast." He was nagging, but it was lighthearted. If Max objected to taking a shower, David would probably let it slide.

Well, he was fully awake anyway, might as well get up. "Fucking- fine, if it'll get you out of my face."

"Language, Max." He scolds. "but thank you." David smiles before walking out of the bedroom with a yawn. 

Max sits up as promised, rubbing his eyes that were  _ incredibly _ sandy from all of the…  _ emotions _ the night before. He grabs some fresh clothes and wanders into the bathroom, locking the door, starting up the shower, and jumping in once it was borderline scalding. He used to like hot showers because using all of the hot water pissed off his father, but now he just preferred it this way. 

He used the privacy to think to himself. When was the last time he had gotten a hug or any sort of comfort like that? The most recent memories are always brief, casual things. A hug of congratulations or something from Nikki here, the ones from an excited David there. None from his mother in recent years, none from his father in as long as he could remember. 

He remembers that his mother  _ used  _ to comfort him more when he was smaller, before Victor had more of an influence on her. She would actually yell at the man and defend Max when the bastard would get verbally and physically abusive towards him.

_ She  _ used to get hit more too, though. 

Max  _ really  _ didn't like that, and apparently she didn't either. When Max told her to stop defending him, she did, easily. Instead, she curled up with him after the fights, whispering soft reassurances in his ear.  _ 'You're not terrible', 'I love you', 'I'll always be proud of you'. _ She'd put ice on his face if he got hit and took care of him like a mother should.

That was probably the best time for Max, honestly. When he was 6 or 7, maybe? He had learned to bite his tongue, had started to learn what  _ not _ to say. His father's tantrums were less frequent, and when they did happen he had someone to help him through it. His mom wasn't being hurt because of him, either. He was actually kind of happy then. At least he had one parent who cared, right? Not ideal, but bearable.

That all changed when they began making more money. They were never poor, really. Lower middle class, comfortable for a family of three, but then Victor got a new job or a promotion, some shit like that. They moved up north, a little bit further out of the city and into high-end suburbia. Then, like a switch had been flipped, his mom had started doting on his father more than him. Lots of cooking, cleaning, laundry, almost as if she owed it to him or something. When his father would yell, she'd say  _ Max  _ was the one who initiated it, told him what  _ he  _ did wrong. Not his father, not the one who abused them both. Max was at fault every single time.

Suddenly, he didn't want to go to his mother for comfort anymore.

Maybe this is who she was the entire time. Maybe she was faking the love she had for him, or doing it out of obligation. Max tried not to think about it.

He wondered if it was that betrayal and abandonment that made him so bitter, or if it was everything else. Max had never been a  _ nice  _ kid, exactly. He always had a smart mouth, always knew how to push people's buttons, enjoyed it, even, but he didn't hate the world and assume the worst in literally every person on the street. He had friends, he enjoyed school, he felt like at least one person  _ really _ cared for him, and that was enough.

And then, she just... didn't. She acted like Victor, like Max didn't exist. Meals came less frequently, if at all. He was old enough to grab leftovers from the fridge, she would say. They came home late or not at all, citing a business meeting or trip that they hadn't told him about. Clothes were bought for him, but they were rarely the correct size. Even his favorite hoodie was too large for him, but it was easy to just play it like he preferred it that way. They stopped driving him to school, forcing him to walk over 30 minutes every morning and night. That wasn't bad in the warmer months, but when winter rolled around, he had to sign himself up for the bus or else freeze to death without a proper coat. It was then that he learned how to forge his parents' signatures, lie to teachers, pretend everything was fine.

Upside, he was hit less often. On top of the fact that his parents never really met the teachers,  _ this _ school district would probably notice if he was limping or had bruises. There were a handful of bad instances, like the stair thing, but they were few and far between. Verbal stuff was more common, but he could shrug that off. After a while, it just stopped bothering him, stopped hurting.

They were just words, after all.

So he has to guess that the last proper, comforting contact he'd had was… over 4 years ago.

The last  _ genuine _ care? Who could know?

Then there was Victor. He didn't ever remember contact from his dad that wasn't aggressive or violent in some way. Yanking him by the arm, knocking him out of the way, pulling him by his clothes, tossing him into his room.

Actually, there was one time, for the family Christmas card. They don't really celebrate, but it was something his father did for work, a sort of obligatory card exchange his coworkers all participated in. They went to a new photographer that time, a much more excited young woman that told them to get in a group hug because  _ "The resemblance is uncanny! You're like an exact clone of your parents, sweetie, it's adorable!" _ . Victor had tried to object, but after a long stream of compliments and enthusiasm from the woman, they agreed to one, awkward picture.

His mom came into frame first, wrapping her arms around Max in a similar way to how she used to, but without the 'sincerity' behind it. He didn't  _ like  _ the contact, it felt very clearly fake, but he could endure it.

When his dad appeared on the other side of him, it instantly put him on edge. Both of them were tense, muscles taught, fight or flight responses engaged and ready to fire. It felt wrong to be so close to someone that did nothing but be shitty to you for pretty much your entire life, even if they were your parent. Max hated every time he had to call the bastard 'father', but calling the man anything else (especially 'Victor') was unacceptable in his eyes, despite not participating in the role even once. 

Fuck, David was more of a dad to Max in  _ one night _ than his actual father was in his entire life.

Wait, pause.

Did he see David as a dad? 

Granted, he didn't really know what a dad was  _ supposed _ to be due to not really having one, but what David did last night was pretty close to what his mom did when she was… kind of an actual mom. David went out of his way to help him, sacrificing sleep and helping Max deal with his problems, even when Max tried to push him away. The guy cared, and... honestly? He wasn't second guessing that anymore.

David really cared, and Max could believe it.

Max turns off the water before it runs cold, ending his shower short. He continues to contemplate this new thought as he dresses and brushes his teeth, staring into the mirror at himself and the circles under his eyes, at his brows still drawn together in thought, at the cold green of his irises that were always too sharp, too hostile, too...  _ uncanny. _

He washes with mouthwash, spits, and then thoroughly rinses his toothbrush before hesitantly putting it in the cup alongside David's. He tosses the plastic baggie he'd been using in the bathroom trash, then takes a moment to tilt his head at the pair of toothbrushes.

They look… okay. Okay enough, at least, for him to leave his there and walk downstairs for breakfast.

TTTTTTTT 

"Max!" David says in greeting. The smell from the kitchen was pretty nice, and there was a touch of familiarity to it, too.

Max hums, still curious about the thoughts he was having this morning. He observes David carefully as he sits at the kitchen table. He draws his eyes over the entire scene, actually. 

David was chattering about the food, how he used some of the spices Max got him (they were ones he recalled his mother using before they stopped making Hindi cuisine), he was wearing a dumb red apron with a maple leaf on the front that Max hadn't seen before. Looking out the glass door, the sun was just making itself known over the trees, the light once again stretching through the kitchen to give the room a warm early glow. The storm from last night seemed to have passed, but left its mark with the stray leaves and branches strewn across the back lawn.

David walks over with two plates and a bowl, placing one of the plates in front of Max, one in front of himself, and the bowl in between them. It was another skillet-type thing, it had eggs, vegetables, potatoes, bacon, cheese, and it was a  _ lot _ of food. He wasn't sure he could eat it all.

David places a glass of milk in front of Max and a glass of orange juice in front of his own seat before sitting across from him, his back to the scene outside. Max wondered if he had commandeered David’s usual spot. It seemed like he would enjoy eating breakfast while looking out into the forest.

David starts eating and seems to glance at Max every once in a while, appearing like he was expecting something. Max only realizes that he’s staring at the guy when the counselor gives him a smile between bites.

"Everything okay, Max?"

Max blinks, looks down at his food, and then back up at David.

"Yeah, actually." A pause. "Is that… it?" Max asks.

David looks at him quizzically. "Do you want to eat something else? I'd prefer if you didn't drink coffee too much in the morning, but if that's what you want, I can-"

"What? No, David. Last night." Max clarifies. "We're not going to… talk about it, or something? Have a heart-to-heart or whatever?"

David blinks in confusion, then smiles. "What's there to talk about? If you’re okay, then that’s all I need to know. If  _ you _ want to talk more, then I’m here.” 

Max furrows his brow. “I-” he stutters, and then without thinking, “Thanks, David.”

This time it’s David that pauses, but after a moment his smile grows larger. “Of course!” he exclaims, and it’s… genuine. At least, it sounds like it. 

Max looks back down into his food and begins eating, a thin line still drawn down his forehead. It was all just so surreal. This whole week. Camp, David, his parents, Gwen.

_ ‘Would it kill you to stop being an insufferable demon for about two fucking seconds, and actually start caring for once?’ _

No, it wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry about the late update! Releases are going to slow down to once-a-week instead of twice-a-week due to work stuff. I definitely don't want to lower the quality of this fic at all, so I'd rather things go slower than the alternative. I'll still be replying to comments (and taking suggestions!) so I'm around, just busy. 
> 
> Thanks for understanding!


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